


Hand in Hand

by SolitaryPeak



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Issues, Fellowship of the Ring, Flashbacks, Gen, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Major Character Injury, Mirkwood, Orphans, Parenthood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Legolas Greenleaf, Rescue, Rivendell | Imladris, Romance, Secrets, Serious Injuries, Thranduil's A+ Parenting, Young Aragorn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 69,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7334530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaryPeak/pseuds/SolitaryPeak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Legolas believes he has his life figured out, spending most of his time on patrols of Mirkwood and with his father when he can. But when he finds a blind elfling in the forest, his life gets turned upside down. Will he help the boy with the help of his father, a young guard, and a kind teacher, or will he break under the pressure and give the boy up? T to be safe</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Autumn Promise

"Here you are, hir nin."

Legolas took the tomato from the farmer and wiped it on his tunic before he took a bite. Juice dribbled from the side of his mouth and he threw his hand up hastily to catch what he could. The farmer chuckled.

"Save some for the festival."

Legolas grinned and took another bite. "I will see you later on today. Thank you."

The farmer waved as Legolas jogged back into the forest. Light, fresh as the breeze that blew his hair back from face, projected flawed patterns on the forest floor. He felt light on his feet. That night was the harvest festival, his favorite celebration. Birds flew parallel to his route, weaving between trees and singing joyfully. His heart was lifted. He jogged to the gates, and the guards bowed their heads as they pulled them open. Within was hustle and bustle, the autumn chaos that Legolas reveled in. People greeted him as he passed them, and he greeted them in return. The halls were decorated in the fall leaves of Mirkwood, and elves sold their autumn wares in the great halls. Products of the successful harvest, as well as clothing, jewelry. Young elflings ran around him and giggled, hair and fabric all Legolas could see before they were gone.

"I am sorry, hir nin," an elleth said as she trailed after the rogue elflings. She looked back at him, apologetic. Her grey eyes were tired, but lit up her face nonetheless.

"Think nothing of it."

She grinned and chased after the children. Legolas' smile faded. There was a strange emptiness in his heart. A tugging of a heartstring that he did not know he had. A hand was on his shoulder, and he flinched, torn violently from his thoughts.

"Hir nin, are you alright?"

It was Arthon, Legolas' friend and fellow member of his patrol squad. Arthon stood out in a crowd in Mirkwood, with hair black as the enchanted river and eyes green as the leaves of the wood. His family was of Ossiriand back in the early years of Middle Earth and held a reputation still of their valor and honor. But Arthon was young, youngest of the patrol. He was yet to earn his valor.

"I am fine, just thinking."

"Are you ready to get back on patrols tomorrow?" Arthon asked as Legolas began moving toward the royal wing.

"As always," Legolas said, disappointed he forgot they were due back on patrols the following day. The guards before the doors to the royal wing were heavily armored, their faces veiled by mithril chain and their torsos blocked by large shields and spears. All that could be seen was their eyes, which registered their prince swiftly. They pulled open the doors and Legolas nodded to them before his stalked toward his father's room. Arthon stopped before the doors.

"I shall see you at the feast!"

Legolas waved his hand in agreement and pushed open the door to his father's room. Thranduil lay on the ottoman that he had dragged to face the window that looked out at the forest. He was in his finest regalia already. His burgundy cloak of velvet rolled over his broad shoulders and flowed onto the ottoman, and finally to the floor, a pool of fine fabric at his side. Hs hair was delicately braided in white strands of royalty and Sindarin lineage. His crown of autumn leaves and copper twigs adorned his head, circling his ears. Thranduil turned his head slightly, enough for Legolas to catch his cerulean gaze under hooded lids, and he turned the page of his book.

"You are late."

Legolas chuckled, "and you are early. Why did you dress so far before the festival?"

"I fell asleep, and the servants came in and told me it was time. Clearly, they were mistaken."

"Clearly, they wished to get you out of the way to ready themselves."

Thranduil dog-eared the page he was on in his book, and sat up. "You must be excited."

"Entirely."

Thranduil smiled and stood, approaching his son. "Well, since the servants have left on us, you should probably get ready."

Legolas' gaze looked up into his father's boundless insight. His eyes were seas of wisdom, kindness… gallantry, intelligence.

Legolas smirked, and his father brushed his hand over his head. Legolas made his way out into the hall and to his room. His festival attire was already hung on the wardrobe for him, his circlet on the shelf. He shook his head, and pulled on his outfit in haste. His father entered, and Legolas turned to face him as he laced up his boots. He stood, and exhaled dramatically as his father looked him over.

"You need to do something with that hair."

Legolas rolled his eyes playfully and spun around so Thranduil could braid his hair. His hands gently combed through Legolas' knotted locks, and Thranduil sighed.

"What is it, Ada?" Legolas asked.

"I am delighted by the festival, but saddened by your departure tomorrow."

Legolas' head fell, and Thranduil tugged it back up by the hair in his hands.

"I do not know why I said anything, Legolas. I am sorry."

"I am sorry I am leaving. It is only for a month this time."

"Yes I know, ion nin." Thranduil said as he tied off his braid. Legolas looked at the braid his father weaved in the mirror. It was complicated, but not nearly as intricate as his father's. It was the prince's braid.

He turned to face his father and Thranduil smiled and rested his hand on Legolas' cheek.

"Let's go."

The hall was filled with eager and drunken elves, and rose for the arrival of the royal family. Thranduil and Legolas found their seats at the head table. From the ceiling hung silk curtains of red and orange, fall leaves covering the heavily decorated tables. Many danced to the lilting music of a successful season, and Legolas danced with them. He laughed and talked and engaged, letting the stress of the patrol melt away. He felt his father's proud eyes on him at times, as he sat serenely at the head table.

From where he stood as he spoke to one of Mirkwood's finest students, he spotted the girl that apologized on behalf of the elflings, on the other side of the room. She was dressed in fine blue, her light auburn hair was the color of the forest, and it fell down her back in waves. He excused himself from his conversation, and pardoned his way across the room to her. She was speaking to another elleth. As he approached she turned, and her eyes widened.

"Hir nin-" she stuttered and curtsied. He bowed his head to her, and her silver eyes found his. She had black kohl around her eyes, and her lips were deep red. Her fair skin grew red as she began.

"I am so sorry, my lord, the children-"

"Think nothing of it. They are but children."

She grinned gratefully, and pushed her loose hair behind her ear.

"Are they your children?" he asked, a grain of hopeful wonder falling into his voice.

"No, I work at the orphanage and sometimes teach at the school, so I am consistently surrounded by elflings."

His heart warmed at the thought of her tending to the kingdom's orphans, and he smiled.

"That is admirable of you."

"Oh no," she blushed, "I enjoy them."

"What is your name?" he asked her.

"Baineth, my lord."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Baineth. I am truly glad that we have crossed paths."

She smiled, "It would be great to see you at the orphanage sometime. I think the children would be excited to see you."

"I must go on patrol for a month, but when I return I fully intend to."

She curtsied again and he smiled and bowed before turning to return to the head table. His father had a mischevious grin on his face, and Legolas grew defensive.

"What are you smiling about?"

"I see you have met Baineth, the director of the orphanage."

"She is the director?" Legolas mused, his eyes wide.

"Yes. She teaches westron to elflings in the military school as well."

"How have I never met her before?"

"She is the silent soldier. Behind the scenes." Thranduil murmured as he sipped his wine.

Early the following morning, Legolas was packed and in his patrol captain uniform. His bow was restrung and ready, along with his freshly sharpened twin knives. Thranduil stood proudly in the doorway.

"It never gets easier to watch you go."

"And I hope I never have to watch you go," Legolas said.

He approached his father's lean form, and Thranduil put his hands on either side of his son's head.

"Come home safe, ion nin."

Legolas nodded, his lips pursed. He loved the forest, but hated what his departures did to his father. With the growing darkness in the forest, there was always a chance he would not come home, and it almost seemed like a matter of time to them both. But they remained silent, and Legolas left without another word.


	2. Hand in Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The patrol comes across something they did not expect.

"Thank you so much, my lord. You have made our lives far easier."

Legolas wiped his hands on a towel and smiled to the villager, "It is our pleasure."

The villager smiled. Her two elflings were behind her and were peeking at the prince from behind their mother's legs.

"Now we will have clean water nearby, and we will not have to walk so many miles from our homes."

"I am relieved," Legolas said with a nod. He looked over at his patrol as they finished up the well.

Arthon approached Legolas, his hair tied back. The light was scarce in this part of Mirkwood. Near to Dol Guldur the village lie, and only Legolas' patrol was permitted to travel the area. They were the highest ranking group of warriors, personally trained by Legolas and Thranduil. It was the elite guard, and it was highly competitive to get a position. There was nine of them including Legolas, their captain. Closest were his sergeant and second in command, Emarth, and the lowest of the group, Arthon. There was also their healer, Loth, that did not speak much but when he did, his dry sense of humor made the entire group laugh.

The well was finished, and the group stood around and chatted as they waited for their captain to give the next direction. Emarth was quite a distance from the group. Legolas turned to get a better look at him, and he was kneeling in a patch of tall purple flowers. Legolas approached him and dropped to his knees beside him. Emarth had a single stem in his hands, small purple flowers stretching from it and toward his face.

"Larkspur," Emarth said quietly.

"They are beautiful," Legolas said, searching Emarth's face. His aura was gloomier than Legolas was accustomed to, and he was thrown off by his sergeant's mood.

"Are you alright?" Legolas murmured.

Emarth turned toward him, his tan skin lightened his emerald eyes. He tried to smile. "Oh yes, hir nin, I am fine."

Legolas nodded and stood before he put out his hand for Emarth. "We should leave, it will be dark soon."

Emarth nodded in agreement and took Legolas' hand. Once Emarth was on his feet, his larkspur in his hand, Legolas called for them to leave.

"Let's go! We have a lot of ground to cover."

They grabbed their bags and followed Legolas through the tiny village, and reentered the forest. Here the forest's own air fogged their minds. Legolas, Emarth, Loth, and the rest of the team were used to the fog, and were somewhat resistant to its effects. But Arthon was not, and a worry tugged at the back of Legolas' mind. It could make him terribly ill. He kept a close eye on him, but Arthon was laughing and smiling as always, and Legolas' heart was at peace for a time. They soon arrived at another village. It was in the forest, bordering the large plain between Mirkwood and Lorien. There were only one hundred elves living in the village, but it was crucial to Mirkwood. It was the communication between Lorien's patrol and Mirkwood's. Legolas approached the house closest to the field and knocked on the door. The rest of the group settled down, opened their bags for lembas. The door opened, and the village's leader, Hilwin, stood before him. She was wise, and old enough to be Thranduil's mother. She was Legolas' most trusted leader, but this time, her eyes were strained.

"Hello, Hir-nin Legolas." She grinned and bowed her head.

"Hello. How have things been since last month?"

"Not as well as I had hoped. There is a problem with an elf that lives here, close to Lothlorien. Haldir of the Galadhrim has come to me several times and told me of his deeds."

"What has he done?"

"He is stealing from those in this village and in Lothlorien. He also burned another's garden and attacked another."

"I will talk to Haldir about him." Legolas murmured. "is there anything else?"

"No not at all," she grinned, "thank you, your highness."

He bowed his head to her and returned to the group. He looked out onto the field, and the grass swirled and rustled in the afternoon breeze. Arthon looked up at him, lembas crumbs on his tunic. Legolas brushed them off and stood when he saw the Marchwarden and his patrol approaching. Emarth and the others stood as well, and followed him into the field. They met in the middle, and Haldir braced Legolas' arm.

"It is nice to see you again," Haldir said.

"You as well."

"We have had a problem with a male elf living by himself not an hour north, on the border of Mirkwood. He assaults all that pass his home and steals crops and private property. He is in Mirkwood, so I did not wish to intrude-"

"Of course. I will lead an investigation, but if you would prefer to arrest and try him you may. I hear it is mainly your people that have been stolen from."

"I will take that offer. Thank you. Has he given you trouble in the past?"

"I did not know anyone was living there," Legolas admitted.

Haldir bowed his head. Legolas knew the other two elves at Haldir's side were his brothers, Rumil and Orophin. They had played as children. Now they were as damaged by war as Legolas was.

Legolas bowed his head in return, and they returned to the forest.

"I wish to investigate this a little myself," Legolas said and Emarth nodded sharply.

"I could not agree more." They started toward the rogue elf's home. Legolas intended on allowing Haldir to investigate and arrest the elf himself, but he was concerned. How had he never known someone had lived there? Emarth was quiet, which seemed to be a recent trend. He would have to talk to Emarth. He watched Arthon, who was at the head of the group. He was walking backwards and laughing at something Loth had said.

Suddenly, he was gone.

Legolas cried out and ran over to where he had just been standing. It was a deep ravine, hand dug. It hadn't been there two months prior. Legolas looked down at Arthon, and he could make him out from where he was standing. Arthon was moaning, his hand over his eye.

"It's alright! We'll come to get you!" Legolas called. He dropped to his knees and dug a rope from his bag. He tied it to a nearby tree and turned around expectantly. Emarth nodded and took the rope and repelled over the edge of the ravine. They spoke for a moment before Emarth looked back up at Legolas, shielding his eyes from the sun.

"He is alright!"

Arthon stood, and Legolas and the other members of the team pulled him back onto the ground. Legolas embraced him, his arms firmly rubbing his back.

"You scared me," Legolas whispered.

"I scared me," Arthon grinned, and Legolas smiled despite his worry.

"Please, walk facing forward from now on."

"Yes, cap'n."

Legolas turned to check on Emarth. He hadn't climbed up yet. Emarth was nowhere to be found.

"Captain," Emarth called. Legolas' eyes scanned the ravine and Emarth was knelt next to a fallen tree.

"Yes?" Legolas responded, Arthon's face still in his hands.

"You have to see this!" Emarth's voice shook, and Legolas leapt into the ravine. He couldn't see what Emarth was looking at, and he was on high alert. His ears were straining to sense any movement. Emarth pointed to the tree, and Legolas jumped. An elfling lay under a mangled bush, his hair plastered to his mud caked face. His entire body was camouflaged in mud and leaves. Legolas knelt next to him, looking for a heartbeat. He was alive. Legolas touched the boy gently and he flinched, gasping.

"It's alright," Legolas said quickly. "I'm going to help you."

"Please- please don't-" the child cried. He tried to move away, but his body was far too weak.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Don't be afraid."

The boy's breathing was ragged and wet, and Legolas lifted him into his arms. They tied the rope around his midsection in a harness, and the team pulled him up, followed by Legolas and Emarth. Loth ran over to them and knelt next to the broken elfling. Loth wiped dirt from the boy's body and he lay weakly against him.

"He's been out here for at least a month." Loth said quietly, examining his emaciated torso. He was covered in bug- and what looked like- rat bites, as well as abrasions from the wind and rain. His skin was burned badly from the summer sun. Loth looked like he was at a loss for words, which made Legolas nervous. Elves didn't typically burn from the sun except in extreme situations.

"He's got a broken ankle, probably from the fall he took to get down there." Loth mused as he raked caked mud from the boy as he examined him.

Legolas' mind raced. They were nearly 5 days from the city and they were in the worst possible area to stop moving. He wiped dirt roughly from the boy's eyes and he stirred, but was unable to respond.

"I think he'll be alright. If we start moving now."

Legolas pulled his blanket from his bag and wrapped the boy in it. He was remarkably light, and his bones poked into Legolas' arms. He was limp, and Legolas curled him against his body. Legolas' nervousness was leaking into the aura of his team, and they all looked at him with fearful eyes.

"Let's head out."

They walked until late into the night when Loth recommended they let the boy sleep. Legolas got some water into him and wrapped him in Emarth and Arthon's blankets as well. Legolas tried to wipe some filth from the elfling to no avail. Emarth and Arthon were watching Legolas. He knew they were concerned about the child too. It was a cool night, and the peepers chirped. Lightning bugs lit up the forest, lighting their path home.

"Get some rest, I'll stay up with him." Legolas said. The others agreed reluctantly and Legolas didn't take his eyes off the boy. Something inside of him had to save him. Had to make sure he ended up ok. Ended up… What would he do with him when he got home? Beineth. She would know what to do, she would help him...

The boy stirred, and his eyes opened. "You're safe." Legolas said, his heart pounding. The boy tried to sit up and whimpered.

"You are alright." Legolas touched the boy's forehead, and his eyes were focused on the leaves above him.

"Is it dark?" He asked quietly.

"Yes, but there is firelight." Legolas responded.

"I-i can't see it." The boy cried.

Legolas' stomach leapt. He was blind.

"I can't see it!" He sobbed, and Legolas pulled him into his arms gently. He held onto Legolas' shirt, and Legolas sat with him in his lap.

"It's going to be ok." Legolas assured him.

"But I can't see!" He sobbed aloud, and Legolas rocked back and forth.

"In the morning my healer will take a look at you again, alright?" The boy nodded, and Legolas wrapped the blanket around him, covering his battered chest. The elfling continued to cry until his cries lost their power, and he fell asleep again. Legolas leaned against the tree with the limp child in his arms. He wiped tears from his cheeks gently, and his heart went out to him. He wished to protect him from any further harm, and the feeling felt foreign, but at the same time was welcomed into his heart.

In the morning, Legolas woke Loth first to avoid the pressures of the rest of the group. The child was blind, but elves could sense emotions and reactions, and he did not want him to get upset by the many strange eyes that watched his every move. Loth was a light sleeper, and flinched at Legolas' touch, his eyes wide.

"What is it?"

"The elfling, he is blind." Legolas whispered.

"Blind?" Loth's eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes."

Loth rose and knelt next to the child, his cloak strewn on the forest floor behind him. Legolas woke the child gently, and he jumped, suppressing a scream.

"Relax, it is alright. It's just me and my healer, Loth. Remember we spoke last night?"

The elfling nodded, and Loth pushed of blonde hair from his face before touching the elfling.

"You cannot see anything?" Loth asked, and the child shook his head.

"No shadows?" Loth tried. The elfling shook his head again. Loth put his hands on either side of his head and looked into his eyes, searching for any reaction from the child. His eyes were lifeless.

"Legolas, I would have Tirien look at him when we return."

Legolas nodded. Tirien was the lead healer in Mirkwood. If anyone could help this child, it was him.

As everyone woke and packed their things, Legolas got more water into the boy before hey began walking again. He would not let anyone near him but Legolas, so as a result he was carrying him. His face was pressed into Legolas' neck, and his warm breath tickled his ear.

"What's your name?" Legolas asked him after a time.

"Sirya." The boy whispered.

"Mine is Legolas."

"Legolas? Like the prince?"

Legolas laughed. "Yes that is me."

"So I should say your highness-"

"No, no. None of that. You and I are friends are we not?" Sirya nodded. "So you may call me Legolas."

"Legolas." He tried out, and Legolas wiped his face. He wished he could wash him, but none of the water near them was safe to touch. This part of the forest was overtaken by darkness, and the water was a black trap of enchanted poison that could blind or kill.

"How is he?" Loth asked from behind as they walked. Legolas turned, and Sirya turned his face away and buried it in Legolas' hair.

"He is fine, just fearful." Legolas said and pat Sirya's bony back.

Sirya held onto Legolas like a desperate baby animal for hours. But the strength began to leave his arms as the sun set, and Legolas bid they stop to rest. Arthon had a fire built and Legolas lay Sirya down on his cloak beneath a tree. The trees rustled in the evening breeze off the plain, and crickets chirped. Legolas pulled the blankets around Sirya.

"Try to get some rest."

"Don't leave me," Sirya whispered.

"I won't. I promise. Close your eyes."

The boy did.

"Now go to sleep. You're safe."

After a half hour of skepticism exhaustion stole Sirya, and his face was calm and relaxed once more. Legolas did not keep watch that night, and Emarth watched over them as they slept. Legolas woke as the sun rose over the trees and chased the fog from the dew covered forest floor.

Arthon was awake, and smiled sadly as Legolas' eyes found him. "Sleep, captain. I'll make breakfast."

Legolas shook his head, but soon woke with Sirya cuddled against him, food next to them. The others were talking and laughing quietly, sitting cross legged around the fire. Legolas pat Sirya's chest and he jerked and sharply sucked in.

"You're ok," Legolas soothed, "I want you to eat something."

Legolas moved him so he was sitting up, and helped Sirya to eat some lembas and sausage. Sirya drank more water as the others put out the fire and prepared to leave. Legolas wrapped him up again and stood. He groaned as he adjusted him in his arms, and Sirya found his comfortable hiding place behind Legolas' ear. The boy was terrified, and it prevented Legolas from thinking clearly. Sirya's fear flooded his thoughts. He knew it affected the others as well, because they shied from the small boy, and constantly looked to Legolas for reassurance that Sirya was alright. Sirya's fear was drowning him, and lapping at the feet of the others. Legolas adjusted him in his arms so that his head rested on his shoulder. He rubbed Sirya's back and hummed a common sindarin lullaby. He rocked back and forth on his feet, and after a few verses his fear subsided slightly.

His small hands clung to Legolas' tunic. Sirya's voice wavered. "What's going to happen to me?"

Legolas sighed. How could he comfort him when he did not know himself? "We're going to get you medicine and rest so you can get strong again."

"But after that-"

"I don't know. We will figure it all out to make sure you are happy and safe, is that alright?"

Sirya nodded and held onto Legolas, falling silent in his arms. The day dragged on, and Legolas was happy to stop for the night once again. His arms were sore, and he ached for a hot bath. They would arrive tomorrow, and they could begin this investigation. No children had been reported missing in nearly a decade, of that Legolas was sure. So where did this child come from? Why had no one gone to the palace for help when he went missing over a month prior? Legolas could not deny his desire to see his father. He needed his advice, and no situation was over Thranduil's head. He would know what to do, and ease Legolas' mind. Legolas looked down at Sirya as he lay with his head on Legolas' thigh and fiddled with the buckle on his tunic.

"How many people are here?" Sirya asked.

"There is myself, our healer Loth, my second Emarth, our baby Arthon, and a few others that are exhausted and sleeping at this moment."

"That is a lot of people."

"No. They're all very kind."

"No one has spoken to me but you," a mix of fear and hurt stained Sirya's voice.

"They are afraid to scare you," Legolas said as he looked up at the watching group. "And you know Loth," Legolas pressed.

Sirya bobbed his head and yawned.

Legolas ran his hands over his face. "Let's have dinner and go to bed." Legolas helped him eat some greens Emarth found and drink the remainder of Legolas' water. Sirya fell asleep under Legolas' blanket, and it was Emarth's turn to keep watch. He played with the flower he had found back at the village, now withered, and watched the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading please review!


	3. Professional Intervention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas finally gets the help of some professionals, freeing his mind to his own thoughts...

"What if someone doesn't like me?"

"They will like you," Legolas soothed as they approached the gate. It had been four hours of walking, but Legolas was relieved to be home. The guards looked alarmed, and stared at the filthy child as he walked by. Sirya was shaking in his arms, his small fingers tangled in Legolas' hair.

"My lord do you want help-"

"No, thank you," Legolas responded and the boy shriveled against him. "It's alright, Sirya."

Inside the gates lie a bustling hall, the market in full swing. Legolas had forgotten.

Legolas turned to Emarth, Sirya's panicked breath against his neck. "I want him to get there without attracting too much attention."

"Yes, sir." Emarth took Legolas by the elbow and lead him up the stairs immediately to the right, and into a hidden hallway. Emarth had always known the hidden tunnels and halls a little better than Legolas had. Emarth had been Legolas' bodyguard and second for nearly his entire life. He knew all of the potential escape routes for his prince if ever needed. They emerged back into a main hallway, and they turned into the medical wing. Legolas approached the head healer, Telion, who was snapping at one of his assistants with malice under his breath. Loth and Arthon came up behind Legolas and Emarth, and caught Telion's attention. His sharp face turned, and his eyebrows hiked up as his jaw fell open.

"By the Valar Legolas-" Telion stopped abruptly, and gestured toward the nearest examination room. The healing wing was empty with the exception of a few clearly minor injuries, to Legolas' relief. Loth came around Legolas as he sat Sirya down on the examining table. Sirya whined and held onto Legolas, his small arms straining.

"I'm right here," Legolas murmured. Sirya held onto Legolas' hand and allowed him to put him down. Legolas' arms were cramped and ached from hours of carrying, but felt empty without the boy. His tiny body was quivering uncontrollably, and tears rested in his eyes.

"What happened here? Where did this child come from?" Telion asked.

"We do not know, sir, he was discovered in a ravine near the southern border," Loth explained, "He has burned skin from the sun, bites all over his body, a broken ankle," Loth hesitated, "and he cannot see. I have not even mentioned the malnourishment. That is all I could find in the forest, sir."

Telion stared at the boy, and wiped grime from his eye. "I'd like to wash him off, so I can see any lesions and discoloration." Legolas nodded and lifted Sirya into his arms again. He knew where the baths of the healing ward were from years of visits, and lead the way with Telion and Loth close behind. Once in the back room Legolas set Sirya down in a bathtub. Sirya gasped at the cold of the ceramic bath and clawed at Legolas' arm.

"It's just water," Legolas said quickly, "It's alright." Sirya cried out and allowed Legolas to pour buckets of water over his head.

"Where am I?" Sirya cried.

"In Mirkwood in the healing wing."

"Legolas-"

"You're ok, Sirya. Enjoy the water." Sirya whimpered and sat back, allowing Legolas to wash the filth from him. Legolas washed his face gently, rolling over his bony cheeks with his thumbs. This revealed scars from long infected cuts on his face. His skin was a pallid yellow, and housed patches of purples and greens. His hair was final, and Legolas rubbed lavender soaps into it, finally rinsing the last of the grime from his body. Now clean, his hair was light brown and fell in waves that framed his face. He looked far better, like an elf more than a wild edain child. He did, however, have a distracting scar that ran from his ear over his eye and down his cheek to the corner of his mouth. It was clearly a cut he had gotten when he had fallen, and had gotten infected and healed over into a gnarly ragged scar that was angry against his fair skin. Legolas pulled him from the bath and into a fluffy towel, rubbing it over his hair. His eyes were stuck open wide in terror, and his shaking had only increased. Legolas looked down the length of the boy's body, and he closed his eyes in despair. The disfiguration of Sirya's leg was obvious. His ankle jutted violently from the rest of his emaciated leg. It was doubtful to Legolas the boy would ever walk.

Telion looked to Legolas. "We must fix that."

Legolas nodded grimly, and wiped the rest of the boy dry.t He carried him back to the examination table, and Sirya sat in silence, shaking like a wet dog. On an examination table the child shook. Legolas held his hand. Telion examined Sirya from head to toe, checking for breaks, fractures, infections. After he was finished, they spoke in westron, so they could speak freely without scaring the boy.

"I must break and re-set that leg or he shall have a horrible time walking for the rest of his life," Telion sighed.

"What about his eyesight?" Legolas asked.

"I am not sure, perhaps the fall? His eye does not register light at all." Telion said as he reflected light into Sirya's tearful eyes. "Which means he is entirely blind. Elrond of Imladris employs a doctor that knows more of the senses than I, so I must assume it was the fall and leave it at that." Legolas nodded. "I recommend we break the leg again and re set it."

"Awake?" Legolas challenged.

"No, no," Telion assured, "We can have him sleep. He is very weak now, we should allow him to gain some strength back before anything surgical is done."

Legolas nodded and squeezed Sirya's hand. He switched back to sindarin. "Everything is alright. You must rest and eat to get strong. Then they must fix your leg, penneth."

"Legolas-" he cried, tears finally falling. "I'm afraid, Legolas-"

"Shh," Legolas said and Sirya climbed up into his arms. "Don't be afraid. I am not going to let anything happen to you. Do you think after all we have been through together I would let anyone do anything to hurt you?" Sirya sniffled. "We have to fix your leg because if we do not you will not walk. Do you want that?" Sirya shook his head and sobbed. "Exactly. So they will fix it for you and then you'll be all better."

"Then what?"

A rock settled in Legolas' stomach. "I don't know, one thing at a time, young one." Sirya nodded and Legolas carried him to a bed in one of the rooms intended for longer stay. Legolas pulled the covers up around him, and ran his thumb over his small cheek.

"Rest."

"Where are you going?" Sirya moaned.

"To see my Adar. I haven't seen him in almost a month you know!" Legolas smiled. "I am always here and someone can come get me if you need. I'll be back in the morning to see you." Sirya bobbed his head obediently, and Legolas pat his head. "Goodnight, get some sleep. There is nothing for you to be afraid of."

"Goodnight." Legolas rose and started for the hallway. Emarth followed, concern splattered over his second's expression, but he could not worry about Emarth now. His mind whirred. This child was attached to him, depended on him. He looked to Legolas for comfort and guidance… How had this happened? The walk to the royal wing was agonizing, his heartbeat drowning his thoughts. He entered the royal wing, and immediately found his father.

"Adar." He cried and slammed open the door to his father's office.

Thranduil jumped and drew his sword. "What is it?" He cried and hurriedly sheathed his sword again.

"On patrol, on patrol I found a child. I- I Adar-" he was trembling, the stress of the last week pouring into his heart.

His father pulled him into his arms. "Alright, where did you find him?"

"In a ravine, Arthon fell in and-"

"Is the child alright?"

"He was in there for over a month, he has a broken leg that they must rebreak to fix. He is blind Adar-"

"Legolas, calm down. Why are you so upset? He is here now?"

Legolas took a shallow breath, "He is attached to me. And I- I don't know-" He suddenly felt ill, his stomach churning.

"Legolas. Calm down. There is nothing we cannot handle together, right?"

Legolas nodded and took a deep breath, and Thranduil rubbed his back mirroring Legolas' treatment of Sirya not 20 minutes ago. "Adar-"

"Legolas he is a child. A terrified child. If he sat in a ravine for a month, unable to see or move, you are his savior. He is in a new place with many strangers, and still cannot see or move. He needs you right now, ion nin, give this time before you focus too heavily on the future. Yes?"

Legolas nodded and Thranduil rose. He opened the door and leaned to speak to his second. "I would like Baineth, the director of the orphanage in my office right away."

"Yes, Hir Vuin."

"I- I don't know what I want to do!" Legolas cried, leaping from his seat. He did not say he wanted to put him up for adoption!

"I just want her to help. Have a seat Legolas, it's alright." Legolas complied, his legs shaking. After a glass of wine, there was a knock at the door. Baineth was there, and Thranduil had her sit down. "We have a situation that requires you're assistance."

She nodded, a nervous glint to her eyes, "of course, you're highness."

"Legolas found a child in the forest, he's quite damaged according to his description."

"Damaged how?" She asked.

"A month of exposure-" Legolas began, "a broken leg that must be re-broken to set. Blindness. Scarring. Both mental and physical."

"By the valar." She exclaimed. "What is to be done with him after he is released from the healing wing?"

Everyone remained silent, and Legolas shook his head. "I don't know. I- I have not- I have not thought much about it I have just returned an hour or so ago." His voice wavered.

She looked at him, pity in her light eyes. "We have several children that were left to the elements following the death of their parents. The violence as of late, it has left many elflings without families."

"So you are familiar with a case such as his?"

"Yes, Hir Vuin. Not with physical injuries like his, however."

"What do you suggest we start with? I wish for you to help manage the wellbeing of the child if you agree to do so."

She looked at him, her cheeks flushing, "Of course, Hir Vuin, I would begin by making a file for the child. We document all we know and record observations. A base to stand upon regarding his background and personality. I usually send my assistant, however, we have never seen a case like this, so I would do it personally."

"Perfect. You are free to do so when you wish."

"Thank you, Hir Vuin," Baineth said with a nod. "I would like to meet him as soon as possible?"

"Is tomorrow suitable?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes, my lord," She bowed.

"We shall see you in the morning. Have a good evening."

Baineth bowed and left the office with a fluid movement of fine fabric. Legolas met Thranduil's eyes, and his father watched him with knowing curiosity in his eyes. He had a glass of wine in hand, and finished it before regarding his son.

"We will figure this out."

Legolas nodded, and returned to his chambers. He took a bath and retired to bed in a mechanical trance. He didn't sleep that night, nor did he expect to. He felt a connection with the child, like he was responsible for him- but he was not his child. What if he did keep him? He was blind, and had a long recovery ahead of him. Elves were rarely blind, he did not think the elves of his land would not treat him as one of them. Sirya was different, damaged. He could be dependent on Legolas his entire life. But if he gave him to Baineth, Sirya would spend his entire adolescence in an orphanage with children that would not accept him. Legolas would be dumping the burden and worry of raising this child on Baineth. He would grow up and leave the orphanage to what life? No family, no skills- Legolas slammed his hand into the pillow. Legolas was screwed either way.

"Damn," He whispered to himself. What kind of father would he be? To a child with unimaginable pain under his belt? "Valar help me-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for your patience! I've been busy but my schedule is clearing and I'll be writing more, especially if you review and let me know your opinion! It honestly drives me! Thanks so much, enjoy.


	4. A Father Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas seeks some help from Thranduil

"You do not look well," Baineth mused, her eyebrows knit with worry. Legolas had dark circles around his red-streaked eyes.

"I did not sleep, but I am alright." He murmured, and they started toward the healing wing. They had agreed to meet that morning to visit Sirya together. She looked beautiful, in an off white organza dress with lace accents. Legolas nodded to the guards as they passed, and greeted several passing commoners. She spoke lightly of a child she had trouble with that morning, and her light voice danced in the air before him, and eased his mind. They found the healing wing too quickly for Legolas' nerves. What would she have to say about Sirya? Would she tell him he was incompetent? Or maybe, to keep him?

Sirya was lying on his back, a stuffed horse in his clutches. He was stroking its mane absentmindedly, his grey eyes pointed toward it, almost as if he could see.

"What are you doing lying around?" Legolas grinned.

Sirya grinned and sat up, the toy horse forgotten. "Legolas! You came back!"

"Of course I came back. You thought I would not?"

Sirya shrugged, and Legolas grabbed another chair for Baineth. They sat on either side of the bed, and Legolas sighed nervously.

"This is my friend Baineth." Legolas said.

"Baineth?"

"Yes she's right here."

She took his other hand and his head turned toward her. "It's very nice to meet you. Legolas has told me all about you and I was very excited to meet you."

"He told you about the ravine?"

"Mhm. Just that you were in one, but not how you got there."

"Oh." Sirya said thoughtfully.

"Have you had breakfast yet, Sirya?" She asked.

"No."

"Well why don't we all have breakfast together?" Sirya smiled and nodded and they had a servant bring them all a grand breakfast with cakes and jams. Legolas did not eat his food, he merely pushed it around his plate. His stomach was in knots, and he watched Baineth as she wrote notes about Sirya as he talked excitedly. Legolas' mouth was dry, and perspiration was evident on his forehead. But Baineth was taking the lead and he was grateful. He needed to observe and think. She helped Sirya eat his breakfast and drink his juice. She played a small game with him and soon sirya dragged him back into the conversation.

"Legolas?"

Legolas flinched. "Yes?" "

Are, are you angry with me?" He asked softly.

Legolas smiled and slumped in his chair. "No, of course not." He said gently, "why would I ever be angry with you?" Sirya shrugged and Legolas touched his cheek. "I'm not angry. I'm just very tired." Sirya nodded and smiled, sorrow in his eyes. Legolas pinched his cheek and Sirya laughed, "that's better." Baineth finished her notes quickly and nodded to Legolas.

"It is time for us to go, but I shall see you again tomorrow."

Sirya did nothing, and Legolas squeezed his hand.

"Have a good night, Sirya."

"Good night, Legolas."

They left him, and sat down with Thranduil in his office. Legolas' leg was shaking.

"He's a great kid, very smart," She said quickly.

"What do you think of his disabilities?" Thranduil asked.

"I don't think they'll stop him for a moment once he's well. What will stop him is his past."

"His past?" Legolas asked.

"That boy was abused."

"Abused?"

"The way he is afraid of angering you, he flinches when anyone touches him. He was in a ravine and no child was ever reported missing. He was not a well cared for child."

Legolas pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know."

"Let him heal. He's having surgery tomorrow, we shall be there for him. It will take some time for him to get well. You have time to think."

Legolas agreed.

"He is a good boy, Legolas. Either way he is going to be alright."

Thranduil and Legolas retired for the evening, and Legolas tried to sleep, but couldn't. His mind went back and forth, back and forth, over and over again in his mind. Once he had thought he had made up his mind, he changed it again and restarted the process of trying to make a decision. He was soon on his couch with the candles fully lit, doing paperwork. He did not get through half the stack before there was a knock at the door. It was Loth.

"Captain, I didn't want to but you said-"

"What's wrong with him?"

Legolas rushed to follow Loth from the room. When he arrived Sirya was leaned over the bed, crying.

"What's wrong?"

"Legolas!" Sirya cried.

"Yes, what's the matter?" He asked, and Sirya sobbed.

Loth sighed. "He had a dream you left him. He was adamant about it."

"Sirya I would never just leave without speaking to you." Sirya cried, and Legolas sat on the bed and embraced him. Sirya curled himself around Legolas' arm.

"I'm afraid!"

"I know." Legolas said and lifted him into his arms. Sirya's head lolled against Legolas' shoulder, and Legolas could feel the exhaustion and fear in the boy, poisoning his aura. The doubt settled in Sirya's stomach stirred Legolas'. "Let's go for a walk, yes?"

Sirya nodded with a hiccup and Legolas left the healers, rubbing Sirya's back.

"Let's go to see my Adar."

"He's asleep Legolas I-"

"It's alright. I promise."

"But he is the king."

"My father is kind, Sirya. I promise."

Sirya sniffled in his arms and Legolas adjusted his weight on his hip as pushed open the door to his father's suite. Legolas didn't know what he was doing, he just knew he needed his father. Thranduil stirred, and Legolas turned on the light.

"Adar." Legolas said quietly.

"Mm?" Thranduil moaned, and rubbed his eyes. He rolled over and looked at a fearful Legolas with a mangled child in his arms. "You must be Sirya." He sat up and took the child from Legolas with expert hands. Sirya whimpered, and Thranduil sat him down on his lap. "It's very nice to finally meet you. Legolas has talked a lot about you in the last few days."

"Thank you." Sirya squeaked. "Your- um- your highness-"

"None of that." Thranduil said. He looked up at Legolas wearily, but with a smile. "You're lucky he brought you home. We finds elflings all the time out there."

"You do?" Sirya asked, his teary eyes wide.

"Oh yes, they grow on trees you know, like berries." Sirya giggled, and Legolas' heart fluttered at the sound. "It's not very funny if you could remember! But you're too old now." Sirya giggled again and Thranduil was examining the wound on his face. "You, my fine sir, look upset. Can I ask why?"

Sirya shrugged. "I had a bad dream."

"A bad dream?" Sirya nodded, wringing his hands. "About?"

Sirya blushed. "It's silly."

"It's not silly if it upset you."

He thought a moment. "About mister Legolas leaving me here."

"Legolas lives here. He could not leave you here if he tried." Thranduil smiled. Sirya smiled in return and Thranduil embraced him. "You're safe here, Sirya. No one is going to leave you anywhere." Sirya nodded, and Thranduil rose and lifted him into his arms. "You're a very good boy, Sirya, and everyone likes you already. You have nothing to worry about."

Relief washed over Sirya's face, and tears sprung into his eyes. "Truly?"

"Truly. Now let's get you back to bed so we can both get some rest."

"I'm very sorry-"

"Do not be sorry. Everyone needs a friend sometimes."

Sirya grinned, his aura washed pure of any insecurities. Legolas was relieved, and rested his hand over his heart. His father was a miraculous gift from the valar. Legolas took Sirya from Thranduil's arms and Sirya threw his arms around his neck.

"Let's get to bed." Legolas said and Sirya yawned in silent agreement. Legolas brushed his hand over Sirya's dull black hair, and held him close. Sirya held Legolas' nightshirt tight and they walked back to the healers, both exhausted.

"Mister Legolas?" Sirya asked tiredly as he tucked him into bed.

"Yes?"

Sirya's eyes fluttered and legolas tucked him in, tucking the stuffed horse in next to him. He watched the child a moment, imagining him in his own room in the royal wing, and his stomach dropped. He returned to his father's room and the light was still on when Legolas arrived. Thranduil was awake, and waved Legolas over to the bed. He lay down and Thranduil lay down next to him, turning out the light.

"He's adorable." Thranduil murmured, his eyes closed.

"He is. Very." Legolas said, watching his father's face. There lie so much knowledge. Easy wisdom. Nothing was difficult to his father any longer.

"What bothers you so? You want to keep him?"

Legolas heart was pounding in his chest. Did he? "I think so. I do not know for sure, Adar."

"What makes you unsure?"

"I have never raised a child. It is a costly commitment." Legolas defended.

"It is. Is it also because he is blind?"

Legolas groaned. "I want to say no."

"It is ok to have doubts. He's going to need you more than any other elfling. Blind elves are something we have never really experienced. It will be tough. But think about how tough it is for him."

Legolas sighed and pressed his palms into his eyes. "I am afraid."

"If you decide to keep him, I would take him to Elrond. He may be able to help with the blindness but he has treated many men and may have some experience with the blind. He may at least give him some tools to help."

"He has Estel, he has a lot in his hands."

"Nothing is ever a lot to Elrond. Trust me."

"I don't know if I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review! Thank you to those of you that have reviewed! I am so grateful!


	5. Battles Won

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas and Sirya tackle and win their own personal battles, in their own way.

At first light, Legolas sat in the window and watched the grey sun crawl over the horizon. The warmth caressed Legolas' face, its heat spreading over the land and waking its inhabitants. It was the morning of Sirya's surgery, and he had to be there for him. His own selfish concerns aside. This child had never had surgery in his young life, and he was mortified. He looked to his father, graceful even in sleep. His hair shone gold strewn across his pillow in silk strands. While sleeping, the centuries of torment and worry fell from his features and revealed a rare glimpse of the handsome elven king that took the throne far too early…

Legolas got down from the window and slipped into his room, closing the door quietly behind him. He got dressed and braided his hair in a absentminded fog. He made his way to the healing wing, distractedly nodding to those he passed. The smell of cleaning products and blood overwhelmed him once he entered the healing wing, and he found Sirya in a hurry. When he entered his small private room, Sirya was playing nervously with the blanket.

"Mister Legolas?" Legolas sat on the bed and took his hand in his. "I'm scared."

Legolas smiled, "It is ok to be scared. But when it is all over you will feel much better."

Sirya nodded, and his sightless eyes were pointed toward his hands. "What will happen to me? I will go with Baineth to the orphanage, will I not?"

Legolas sighed and leaned forward, inches from his face.

"I do not know yet, penneth. Please, please do not worry. Right now we must focus on getting you healed."

Sirya nodded and Legolas brushed his hand through Sirya's hair. "Do not be afraid. I will always ensure your happiness."

Telion entered, and Sirya immediately sensed him and began to cry, gripping Legolas' hand with all of his strength.

"Let's get this over with Sirya so you can be running around and having fun, shall we?" Telion offered sympathetically.

Sirya nodded and Legolas pulled him into his arms. "I will be here when you wake up."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Baineth wasn't surprised to see him when he showed up at her door.

"How is he?" She asked and stepped aside to allow Legolas to enter.

"In surgery." Legolas said, looking around. Her suite was small. It was nowhere near the magnitude of that of the royal wing. He knew it would be, but it saddened him. She deserved far better. She was having tea, and she offered him some with a gesture. He nodded, and sat down as she poured him a cup of tea.

"He was up late last night. I brought him to my father," Legolas said and sipped his tea.

"He told me," Baineth said, sitting next to him. "He left just before you arrived. He said you were thinking of adopting Sirya." Legolas nodded. "He is a wonderful kid, and I think you would find it very fulfilling. But make sure you adopt him for the right reasons. That you are not adopting him so that you will not feel guilty."

"I want him," Legolas admitted, "but I am scared."

"Scared of?"

"Being a father. Having a blind child that may not be accepted here."

"I cannot reassure you, but he will experience prejudice regardless of whom raised him. Only you will know what is best for you. But I feel as though through your fear, you already do."

He nodded again, and she stood, "He should be out soon."

"Yes," he agreed quietly. "Thank you."

"Of course." She said and walked him to the door. "Let me know what you decide."

He returned to the healing wing, and Sirya was out of surgery. He was in a long tunic, his leg wrapped in fine white gauze. He was asleep still, and half wrapped in the sheets. Legolas brought a book, and sat in the chair next to the bed to read. He read a few pages before shutting the book and looking at Sirya's face. He was so calm in sleep, minus the hideous marring across his cheek. But even that had its own way of making his personality show through his features.

"He did well." Telion said, leaning in the door frame. "It is a small wound, and the bone is repaired. He is young, he should be well in a week or so."

"Will he walk normally?"

"Yes, I believe so. One thing, however, that concerns me, is his growth."

"His growth?"

"He did not eat for a terrible amount of time." Telion rubbed his temples. "He is small, for his age. His malnourishment has seemingly stunted his growth. At least, some of it." Legolas stared at him. How many more obstacles could be thrown in front of this child? "Only time will tell."

Sirya groaned, and Legolas watched his face as it twisted in agony. "Mister Legolas," Sirya moaned.

"Yes, I am here," Legolas said quietly, dragging the chair toward the bed.

"It hurts," he balled the blanket up in his fists.

"I know. I know." Legolas murmured, and Sirya stroked his forehead feebly.

"Legolas," he gasped under his breath, his leg shifting.

"Can you get him something for the pain?" Legolas asked Telion, who nodded and stalked away. Legolas put his hand on Sirya's forehead and smoothed his sweaty hair from his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his mouth open in pain.

"Telion told me that in a little over one week, you will be running around." Legolas said softly, stroking his cheek.

Sirya didn't seem to hear him, his small body spending its hard earned energy on healing and pain management. Telion soon returned, a liquid herbal mixture in his hands.

"Drink this," he said and took Sirya's head in his hand. He did so, and fell back on the pillow. Legolas observed, his heart pounding. Sirya's face soon relaxed, and he was asleep again.

"That will keep him out through the night." Telion said, putting the glass down. "Get some rest."

It was four days before Sirya was no longer dependent on the pain herbs to sleep. He was awake, and eager to be out of the healing wing. Legolas was there every day, and spent long nights sitting in his father's window, playing out every possible situation in his mind. Every consequence to every action. He knew his father was concerned. He would wake, and join Legolas in the window. One night he finally broke, tears falling freely from his eyes. "I wish I had never found him." Legolas had sobbed, his mind robbed of logic in its despair. Thranduil's arms were around him, his chin resting on his son's head. "Then he would still be in that ravine. Alone, and dying. You love him, Legolas. And he loves you. This is the will of the valar."

The following morning was the fifth day after Sirya's surgery. When Legolas visited he looked bored, and was excited to sense Legolas when he entered. They had been reading a chapter per day of a book Legolas had loved when he was a child, and Sirya seemed to be loving it as well. Near the end of their chapter for the day, Telion was in the doorframe.

"I'd like to speak with you."

Legolas nodded. "I will be right back." He said to Sirya.

He followed Telion into the hallway, "He is fine. We checked the leg and it was very easy, the bandage is good to go. He does not need to be here any longer."

"What are you saying?" Legolas asked, panic rushing into his veins.

"You can take him home, if you want to. He will heal faster there."

Legolas nodded, his blood rushing to his ears. "Ok. Thank you," was all he could manage. He needed his father and Baineth.

He returned to Sirya, and touched his cheek. "Sleep for a time, I'll be back in the morning."

"Are you alright?" He asked weakly.

"Yes," Legolas tried to assure him. "Do not worry." When he returned to the royal wing he had Emarth retrieve Baineth, and sat down with her and Thranduil.

"I am going to give him a try, and adopt him if it is a good fit for the both of us," Legolas said. His father and Baineth stared at him for a moment.

"I support you, Legolas. I'll help you how I can." Baineth said with a nod. "He is a fine child."

"I agree," Thranduil smiled, "I think he will grow to be as wonderful an elf as you, Legolas. I am proud of you."

Legolas smiled. "Thank you."

"We spoke already, you know I will help you," Thranduil assured him. "It takes a village."

Legolas grinned, and his father rose and embraced him before taking his face in his hands.

"Ion nin," Thranduil mumbled fondly and kissed his forehead before he rose and left. Legolas bowed his head. Legolas felt a great weight lifted off of his shoulders. He had committed to a decision, and he had the support of those that mattered to him. He would save the child from a lonely and damaging life in an orphanage packed with sighted elflings. However, he felt Sirya had saved him as well. Legolas threw his arms around Baineth, who giggled with surprise and returned the grateful squeeze.

"Thank you," Legolas said again, its infinite importance ringing in his ears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading! Please review! I love them! Thank you so much to those of you that have!
> 
> For the record, Sirya is 20, which is about 8 in elvish maturation. Legolas is around 100 here, making him about 26 in elvish maturation.


	6. Barriers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas and Sirya begin their life, and break down barriers together

The following morning, Legolas returned to the healer's, dread and excitement solidly wedged in his consciousness. It was a life-changing decision, one he took far too long to commit to. When he entered, Sirya was playing with one of the healer's instruments.

"What are you doing?" Legolas asked with a smile and Sirya jumped.

"You startled me."

"I am sorry. How are you feeling?"

"Better."

Legolas sat on the bed, "That is wonderful to hear. I wish to talk to you, Sirya. About some things and to be honest with one another."

"Alright," Sirya said, beginning to pick at his fingernails.

Legolas moved in closer to him, so their arms were touching, and watched his tired face. "How did you get in that ravine?"

Sirya thought, his eyes running through his emotions. "I- I don't remember." He whispered.

Legolas could see the guilt in his eyes. He was lying. "Alright. Do you have parents? Where were you living?"

Sirya closed his eyes. "Mister Legolas." He sighed. "I- please."

Legolas stared at him. "I have given you your space until this moment, but I have to know. If I don't know we cannot move on from this."

"I am afraid," Sirya whispered with tears in his gray eyes.

"Of what?" Legolas murmured in return.

"Of what you will think. Of what you will do."

"Tell me what it is you do not wish for me to do and to think."

Sirya thought a moment. "I do not want you to do anything about it. I simply do not want to go back. I do not want you to… to think of me as broken. Although right now I guess that I am."

"You are not broken. You are absolutely not broken. And I promise you that you and I will talk about whatever it is I wish to do next."

Sirya sighed. "Mister Legolas my Naneth died a very long time ago and I lived with my Adar. My Adar didn't like to see me or feed me so I went looking for food often. One day he thought I had run away and dug a ravine to keep me in. Then he got angry with me one day and I ran away and fell into the ravine. He must have seen me down there but thought I was dead."

Tears spilled over his cheeks, and Legolas took his face in his hands. "It's alright now. You're here with me."

"Mister Legolas do not make me go back. Please. I will be your servant, I'll do whatever you want just don't make me." He sobbed.

"You are not going back," Legolas said quietly. "I was going to ask you if you would like to live with me."

Sirya's face lit up. "Really?"

"Yes really." Legolas chuckled. Sirya threw his arms around Legolas' neck. "Come, let's go home."

"Mister Legolas." Sirya cried, tears pouring down his cheeks.

"Let's get you out of here. I cannot stand to look at you here any longer."

Sirya wiped tears from his eyes and Legolas lifted him into his arms.

Telion was in the hallway when they exited the room, "Just keep an eye on that ankle, Legolas, for swelling and infection. I shall come to see you in a few days, Sirya." Telion said and touched Sirya's back.

"Thank you," Sirya murmured and Legolas held him against his chest and walked out into the hall.

He tried not to worry about the glances. If he were to keep Sirya he would have to get used to them. The staring did come, and Legolas bowed his head with a smile as they approached, and passed with curious, judgmental gazes. But worry still filled his heart. How much explaining would he have to do? Legolas could feel the fear in Sirya. It was entirely different from the fear that shook him in the forest. This was absolute terror.

"I live just down the hall, and when you are feeling well again I will show you the entire royal wing." Sirya nodded stiffly and Legolas rubbed his back. "What frightens you so?"

"I-I-" Sirya stuttered, and his chest heaved.

"Sirya," Legolas cried, and he vomited down Legolas' back. Parenthood. Already showing its ugly side. Legolas thought with a groan. "Mister Legolas." Sirya wept, and Legolas nodded to the guard who opened the door, his eyes and mouth wide open in alarm. Legolas put Sirya on the couch and ignored the wet warmth crawling down his back.

"What is wrong?"

Sirya was struggling for breath, his words short and interrupted by his quivering. "I'm so sorry I can't- I didn't-"

Legolas had a feeling that he knew what was ailing the child. "It's alright! Please, Sirya. We will give this month a try, and if you are incredibly unhappy here or this is not a good fit, we will find you another home, yes? There is no need to be fearful. But I do understand, this is all so new and frightening for both of us. But I am not going to hurt you, I just wish for you to be happy."

Sirya bobbed his head obediently and wiped his nose on his hospital sleeve. His untamed hair was hanging in his face, and Legolas pushed its damp mass behind his ear and stood. He knew his father was in his office next door, and used their connection to send a mental distress call.

"I have to bathe, so my Adar will come sit with you for a few minutes."

"Legolas-" Thranduil entered the room and creased his eyebrows at Legolas, and then smiled, eyeing the vomit. Legolas rolled his eyes and hurried by his chuckling father into the bathroom. Sirya's vomit crawled down his spine. He washed off quickly, and when he returned Sirya was in Thranduil's arms, holding onto the leaf of a plant by the window. Thranduil was quietly explaining to him what kind of plant it was and what it looked like.

"Legolas is back," Thranduil said and turned. Legolas smiled and Thranduil approached him.

"I'm really sorry," Sirya said quietly, his small finger curled around Thranduil's. "It's perfectly alright," Legolas said as he pulled on some clothes. "Why don't we show you your room?"

"It's perfectly alright," Legolas said as he pulled on some clothes. "Why don't we show you your room?"

Sirya smiled and Thranduil handed him off to Legolas, careful of his leg. Legolas adjusted his weight so he was on his hip and carried him into the next room. Within there lay a bed and a wardrobe, and a door that adjoined with Legolas' bathroom. It didn't go out into the hall, and of that Legolas was glad.

"This here is your bed," Legolas said and leaned over for him to touch it.

"It's mine?"

"It's all yours. And you have clothes and shoes and a wardrobe."

"All for me?"

"All for you," Legolas grinned and brushed his hair from his face. "I'm just in the other room, if you need absolutely anything, I'm right there ok? Just yell for me."

"Ok."

Legolas pulled the blankets down and placed Sirya within them, pulling them around him.

"I'm going to stay with you for most of the day, and so is Thranduil."

He nodded with a delighted smile and Legolas grinned. They read and played games and when he slept Legolas returned to his room and sat with his father. He told him everything Sirya had, and Thranduil seemed disturbed by the news.

"He is safe now, and that is what matters. I would like to have Haldir talk to that elf, however."

"I as well. I believe he is Sirya's father," Legolas nodded and tipped back a glass of wine. "I am scared, Ada," He admitted.

"I am here to help, ion nin. We can do this together. It always gets easier with time."

Sirya slept the remainder of the day, into the night and well into the afternoon the following day. Thranduil did his paperwork in Legolas' sitting room so he could hear Sirya. Legolas went to see Baineth, who was having lunch in the courtyard with her assistant, Erthien.

"How is he?" she asked, and he sat down with them at the table.

"Sleeping. He has been sleeping for almost an entire day."

"That is favorable. With rest, he shall be better in no time." Legolas sat in silence, and Erthien watched the prince, refraining from eating his lunch. Baineth waited patiently for Legolas to get his thoughts together.

He broke his silence, "How will I send him to school? How will he get an education? How will I teach him to be independent?"

She stared at him, and Legolas looked as if he were about to cry. Erthien rose with an awkward air and left them. Once he was gone she pulled her chair toward him. "We'll figure it out, Legolas. Children are not something that you can plan ahead. The first step is for him to get well again." She whispered. Her face was inches from his.

"Then he will be walking and will not know his way about the castle-"

"He shall learn. He is an intelligent child, Legolas."

"I know that I simply-"

"He is alright." She assured him, putting her hand on his shaking one. "Trust me. I will help you."

Legolas smiled gratefully and she returned it with understanding in her eyes.

"Hir nin," Legolas turned, and Emarth was standing behind him. "He is awake, and he is walking."

Legolas stood and Baineth followed him back to the royal wing. Sirya was sitting on the couch with a slice of bread and jam and stood when Legolas entered.

"Legolas!" He cried and ran toward him, his legs weak and faltering. Legolas caught him and lifted him into his arms.

"What are you doing on your feet already?" Legolas smiled.

"It does not even hurt," Sirya grinned happily.

"Regardless, I think Telion should take a look."

Sirya nodded seriously, and Legolas pushed the child's hair behind his ear.

"Finish your breakfast and we will go have a look, and then we'll go for a walk."

"I am finished," he said quickly. Sirya's excitement was evident in his eyes, stars sparkling as he nodded. Legolas adjusted his hold on him and rubbed his back.

"Baineth is here," Legolas said as they turned toward the door. "You remember her right?"

Sirya nodded and Baineth grinned. "Hello, Sirya. You are looking much better today," she said.

Sirya smiled and hid his face in Legolas' neck. Legolas thanked Emarth for opening the door for him.

"There's a lot of people here," Sirya whispered.

"That's ok they are all friends," Legolas said gently.

This is Arthon." Legolas said and faced him where he stood watch at the door. "He's my very good friend and he also was there when we found you remember?"

Sirya nodded and Arthon looked nervous. "Hello, Sirya." He said awkwardly.

"And my father is here and Baineth, and my other very good friend Emarth. He is also my second and carries my banner." Sirya nodded, and Emarth bowed his head. Legolas watched him. Something was wrong. He ignored it for the time being, and Legolas made his way to the healing wing where Telion saw them right away.

"Sirya," Telion grinned and Sirya unfolded.

"Hello." He said quietly.

"Feeling a little shy today?" Telion laughed and took him from Legolas' arms. "What is it?" He asked.

"He was walking when I got home today," Legolas explained.

"Walking?" Telion's eyebrows rose. "Someone's in a hurry."

Telion set him down on the examining table and unwrapped his ankle. It had a deep scar running from his ankle bone to the middle of his leg, and was purplish red. The scars were set, and the stitches looked irritated. But Legolas could tell it was mostly healed.

"It looks good. Did it hurt when you put weight on it?"

"No, not at all," Sirya said, his hand firmly planted on Legolas' forearm.

"Why don't we take out those stitches and get you on your way?"

Sirya nodded and his eyes fell.

"It won't hurt," Legolas said and he bit his lip. "It won't I promise you."

Telion returned with tools and touched Sirya's leg gently. "I have a little pair of scissors here and I just cut the little strings and tug them out. It is no big deal. Nothing to be afraid of."

Sirya whimpered and Legolas took Sirya's hand. Telion cut the stitches and tugged at the first string. Sirya flinched and whimpered, and Legolas hugged him against his chest.

"That's ok. Shake it off." Sirya took a deep breath and nodded, and held his own until the final few.

"Please-" he cried, and Legolas stroked his hair.

"Only a few more penneth and then you're free," Telion said apologetically. He cut all the remaining stitches and tugged them out simultaneously, and Sirya cried out, his nails digging into Legolas' arm.

"All over."

Legolas set him down on his weak legs and Sirya tried to hold his own weight. Legolas held his elbow and guided him comfortably, and they walked around the wing until Sirya got tired and Legolas carried him back to bed.

"How do you like having him thus far?" Thranduil asked as Legolas plopped onto the couch.

"I enjoy it," Legolas mused, "However, my fears blind me of far more."

"Give yourself time to adjust. It's the same for all parents."

Legolas tried to let his father's words comfort him, and spent the evening doing paperwork. The following morning was the same, as Legolas was far behind on his paperwork. Sirya would totter through the room from time to time silently, exploring his new home. Legolas would watch him. Watch him fight through the sunburn and scars and healing wounds and touch a flower gently. He would hold a book and caress a bottle. He was so gentle, so thoughtful. Legolas found himself staring. Sirya's elbow caught a vase, and it tumbled to the ground and shattered, lilies scattering along the carpet. Sirya's beautiful grace was shaken. Legolas rose and Sirya cried out.

"I'm so sorry-" he cried shakily.

"It is alright, are you ok? Did any glass catch you?" Legolas asked and sat him on his desk.

"No, I don't think so."

"Don't be upset, it was only a vase," Legolas said and rubbed his shoulder. "I want you to walk around and explore."

Sirya nodded, his eyes wide and pointed toward the floor. "The flowers," Sirya said and Legolas picked one up and handed it to him. He smelled it, lingering over the scent. "They're so beautiful."

"You can have all the flowers you want, penneth," Legolas said.

Sirya focused on the flower. "The vase was important."

"No. Don't worry about the vase." Legolas asserted, although he knew he was lying. The vase was Oropher's mother's. "Let me clean the vase, and then you can continue exploring."

Sirya nodded solemnly, and Legolas left him sitting on the desk while he cleaned the glass. He saved the flowers and placed them in an urn while he searched for another free vase, and lifted Sirya into his arms. "Go play," Legolas said and placed him gently on the ground. "You can go into Thranduil's room as well, just come and get me first."

Sirya nodded and looked worried, tottering cautiously towards the door. "Sirya." Legolas said quietly. "What has changed your curiosity?" He shrugged. "Sirya."

"I don't want to break anything. They are your things." He nearly whispered.

"Sirya, it's alright," Legolas said and knelt before him. "Things can always be replaced. What is important to me is that you feel comfortable, and it makes me happy that you were finding your way around here. The only time breaking something would anger me is if it were out of malice. Go where you wish. Just stay out of Thranduil's unless I go with you. Fair?"

"Yes," Sirya agreed, and Legolas smiled and squeezed his shoulder. Sirya's excitement had returned after a proper amount of self-loathing, and he ended up playing with Legolas' plan soldiers. Baineth arrived soon after, and Sirya waddled over to her when she entered. Legolas grinned. This was good. He trusted her.

"Hello my prince," She grinned and lifted Sirya off the ground.

"Hello. I trust you slept well?"

"Yes." She said, wiping something from Sirya's face. "Thank you."

"I broke a vase today." Sirya whispered loudly to her.

"You did? By accident?"

He nodded.

"Accidents happen, Sirya. Vases are made every day, and there are at least a hundred in the royal wing alone." Sirya grinned sheepishly and she ran her hand over his hair. "You are looking great today. Do you feel much better?"

He nodded, and she examined the cut at his forehead. She saw that Legolas was trying to work, and wiped her hand over his cheek. "Would you like to come see where I work?" Sirya tensed, and worry condemned his expression.

"That's a good idea, Baineth," Legolas said, focused on his work.

Sirya shook his head gently, fear in his eyes. "Why are you upset?" She asked softly, putting hair behind his ear.

"You, you work at-"

"Oh penneth. We'll be back the moment you want to come back."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Legolas?" Sirya said quietly, his voice eager.

"I'm going to be right here when you get back," Legolas assured him. He nodded and she carried him into the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and for the reviews, kudos and messages! your support means a lot.


	7. Uncovering Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas begins to uncover the truth about Emarth, as well as Sirya.

Legolas groaned impatiently. He'd been waiting hours. The sun was setting and the trees cast shadows over Legolas' face as he searched for Emarth. When Legolas had asked, his sister had promised he would be there. He'd been avoiding Legolas, talking to him only when it had to do with his job. He was withdrawn, and even Emarth's sister made a point to tell Legolas. He heard a snap and flinched, falling into the brush. It was Emarth, his bow faithfully in his hand. Legolas stood and Emarth strung his bow in a flash, the arrow pointed at Legolas' face. Emarth's terrified gray eyes widened further once he recognized the prince.

"He is silent. Always," she had said, leaning in the doorway. Her elfling ran behind her, and she turned to scold the child before returning her gaze to the prince. "Anything you could do would be a great help."

He heard a snap and flinched, falling into the brush. It was Emarth, his bow faithfully in his hand. Legolas stood and Emarth strung his bow in a flash, the arrow pointed at Legolas' face. Emarth's terrified gray eyes widened further once he recognized the prince.

"My lord-" He stammered. "I did not-"

"By the valar, Emarth. I know it is your day off, but I thought perhaps you would not be so unhappy to see me that you would kill me on sight…"

"No, no, Hir nin," He quickly put his arrow back in his quiver, "I am always delighted to see you, I-"

"I jest, Emarth," Legolas said quietly. Emarth's chest was heaving, and his eyes were wide. "I wished to speak to you."

"About?"

Legolas shrugged, and they began walking again. "What is it you do out here? Alone?"

"I enjoy my time alone," Emarth murmured.

"I can leave, if you wish," Legolas said, stung.

"No, no, that is not what I meant-" Emarth sighed, his hand over his face. "I did not mean you, hir nin."

"You never called me hir nin until this past month," Legolas said. "I thought we were closer than that."

"We are-"

"Then why do you not speak to me? Something haunts you and you remain silent. You have retreated into yourself."

"I am alright," Emarth said, his head bent and hidden from Legolas.

"What keeps you from telling me?"

"What you will do. What you will think," he admitted softly, his eyes finding Legolas' under his hair.

"I want to help you, and I'll do anything to do so. But I will not do anything that you do not want me to."

Emarth looked surprised, and recognition sparked on Legolas' face. "Someone said something to you. Who was it?"

"See," Emarth groaned, "you already seek revenge."

"No, but I wish to know who it is, Emarth. What they said."

"Legolas I-"

"Please," Legolas nearly begged.

"Arthon," Emarth said quietly.

"Arthon? What has Arthon done?"

"He will not leave me alone when we are on patrol, and now he bothers me here."

"What is he doing?"

"He tears my clothes, steals my food, he put insects in my water. He destroyed my sword hitting rocks with it. Now he bothers my sister, he cut the hair from my horse's mane and wears it on his armor. He tries to turn the team against me, by telling them false stories of me." He went on, unable to stop now that the gate had been opened. "I cannot do it anymore, Legolas."

"Why is he doing these things?" Legolas asked, horrified.

"He wants to make me resign, so he can be your second. I am honored carrying your banner, Legolas, but I cannot do this for much longer," his voice wavered, and Legolas took his elbow.

"Why didn't you tell me? Why hasn't Loth told me?"

"I asked Loth not to, I had to beg him."

"Why? I can stop this, Emarth," Legolas' eyebrows were knit together in horror and confusion.

"You have Sirya to worry about, and Arthon said that you only kept me as your second because you pitied me and would feel guilty demoting me after so many years."

"That is not true," Legolas nearly shouted. "You are my second because you are by far the most qualified for the job. You are the best fighter, the best leader. You are the strongest on my team mentally and physically. You're clever, creative, and quick. No one compares to you. You are the only member of the team I would trust if something ever happened to me. Do not let a jealous elfling make you feel otherwise."

Emarth nodded, his eyes glimmering with tears in the light of the final sun. "I was childish to allow myself to be weakened."

"No. He is being cruel to you, it would bother anyone. I will take care of it."

"No, Legolas please-"

"I will take care of it without him ever knowing that you spoke to me. Do not worry."

Emarth smiled and a glimmer of his old personality shown through for a moment. "Thank you."

"In the future, please, Emarth, speak to me."

"I will."

"Come, I am meeting with my family about Sirya, and you are family, and I value your input."

\--------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas sat with Thranduil on the couch, and Baineth sat in the armchair by the door. Sirya was playing with his new friend, Laina, in the orphanage.

"Sirya is nearly well, and I must come up with a plan for his education, and for his well-being, while I am here and while I am away," Legolas said quietly.

"When do you usually return in the evening, when you are here?" Baineth asked.

"Just before dusk, usually."

"He can attend school at the orphanage. He is only one of four children his age, so he would get significant one on one attention."

"Then he can spend time with me," Emarth said, his worn leather boot folded in his lap. "I can teach him basic knife skills, some things about the forest."

Legolas smiled and looked to his father. "I would not wish to burden you both with extra tasks."

"It is my pleasure," Baineth said and Emarth nodded in agreement.

"It is settled, then," Thranduil said with a pleased clap of his hands.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The following week Sirya began lessons with Baineth. They were early and Emarth picked him up and brought him into the forest for lessons and play, and sometimes brought Laina and a few other children from the orphanage with them. Sirya would be back in the royal wing mid afternoon, which gave Legolas plenty of time to get things done. If not, his father would take care of him or he would return to Baineth and play with the kids at the orphanage. It all worked, but Legolas didn't like all of the time he was taking from Baineth. She couldn't say no, and he felt that was the reason she didn't. Sirya was excited, however, and he couldn't pretend he wasn't excited for him. He helped him get dressed and braided his hair in the morning.

"I'll see you soon, have fun." He always said and embraced him.

At his meetings, he worried, and couldn't focus at the council meetings. He did absentminded paperwork and was concerned about Sirya and Emarth. Emarth was responsible. But what could possibly happen to a blind child in the forest? He only had to turn around for a moment…

"Legolas." Thranduil smirked. "Your worrying is giving me hives."

"I'm sorry Adar."

"He's fine. I promise. I did the same thing."

"When did that wear off?"

"It still hasn't." Thranduil smirked.

Legolas smiled.

Thranduil rose and put his hand on his son's head. "I am finished, I will relieve Emarth and we will see you in a few hours."

"Have fun," Legolas murmured. His mind wandered, and images of Arthon terrorizing Emarth haunted him. Arthon, one of his closest friends and most trusted allies. How could he do such a thing? Legolas was thinking of asking Arthon to be Sirya's guard. Now he could not trust him with his own teammates? Legolas couldn't focus and left his paperwork early to find Loth. He was in the healing wing, as he always was when they weren't on patrol, and he seemed to know what Legolas wanted before he said it.

"Legolas," he said, "is Sirya alright?"

"He is fine. I wish to speak to you. In private."

They sat in Telion's office, and Loth was at a loss for words. "At first he lashed back. Emarth took the soles out of his boots and cut the string of his bow a few times, but Arthon was far more determined. He is passionate about this. Emarth gave up after three or four months of it…"

"Three or four months?" Legolas sat up, his hands bracing the desk.

"It has been nearly half a year. Emarth wouldn't allow me to say anything of it, he said he would deny it. He thought you would think him weak."

"When does he usually do these things?"

"When you are asleep, speaking with someone, or if you busy Emarth. Then he returns to missing trousers and ruined swords."

"Is there anyone else involved?"

"No, just him."

"I must catch him, Loth. Or I may lose Emarth."

There was a knock on the door and Legolas called for whoever it was to enter. It was Arthon, a braided black horse tail hanging from his waist. Legolas pointed to it and swallowed the anger that rose in his throat.

"Where did you get that?"

"This?" Arthon smirked, "oh, it was a gift."

"From who?"

"An admirer," he said, his pupils dilated. "Do you want to go to the practice grounds with me later today?" He asked Legolas.

"I have to go see Sirya," he said, trying to cover his annoyance.

"I was wondering if everything was ok, you have been in here quite a while."

"That is my business, Arthon, not yours," Legolas snapped. Arthon flinched, his hand on his chest. "This has to do with Sirya, not you," Legolas covered quickly, the aggravation still in his voice.

"I apologize, I was simply concerned."

"Your concern borders intrusion, captain," Legolas stood. "Emarth is taking a vacation until next patrol, you are to be my guard until then."

Arthon bowed, his expression still disturbed from the lashing, "thank you, hir nin."

"Change your uniform and relieve Emarth at my door as soon as you can."

"Of course, hir nin."

Legolas brushed past him, and Emarth met his eyes as he picked up pace behind him. "You can have the rest of the month off, Arthon is going to relieve you, so you can have some peace for a time."

"I am alright, Legolas, I-"

"You shall still be paid, of course. I simply want him away from you for a time, and you deserve the rest. You take care of Sirya half the day and guard for the other half, that is a tiring day for anyone."

"I will still take Sirya, if you would like."

"If you wish to, I think that would please him."

He entered the suite, and Emarth nodded to the other guard before joining him on the other side of the doorframe.

"Come in for a moment," Legolas said and Emarth shut the door behind him. Sirya was sitting on the couch, blabbering to Thranduil about what he had done that day.

"Baineth taught us about the seasons, and then Emarth took me into the forest and showed me the fallen leaves that autumn brings!" he said happily.

"It is like they planned it," Legolas said and winked to Emarth.

"It was amazing," Sirya grinned and jumped into Emarth's arms. Emarth grunted and lifted him into his arms with a shift if his armor, his scabbard rocking on his side. "Wow you have a lot of weapons during the afternoon."

Emarth laughed, "I protect Legolas from harm after our play. I need many weapons, as well as my armor."

"People want to hurt Legolas?" He asked softly.

"No, but if they ever do, I'll be here to make sure they don't. Sounds like a good idea, huh?"

Sirya smiled and twirled Emarth's hair in his hand, "what shall we do tomorrow?"

"That is for you to find out tomorrow," Emarth grinned and put Sirya down, "I must resume my post, but I will see you tomorrow morning."

"Goodnight," Sirya grinned and hs hand found Legolas' tunic.

"Goodnight," Emarth responded, and returned to the opposite side of the door. Legolas sat on the couch but listened for Arthon, who appeared shortly after.

"Getting a much-needed break, I hear," Arthon said quietly. "You need it, you've been getting soft."

"You get vacations when you do your job," Emarth said, "you would know that if you did yours."

"You're not getting a vacation, I'm getting a trial run," Arthon laughed. "And I'll prove myself better than you could ever be. Even with all your ass kissing."

"How am I ass kissing?"

"Tutoring the boy. Very intelligent move."

"Dôl gîn lost," (your head is empty) Emarth spat and Legolas heard his heavy steps stalk from the wing.

 

\----------------------------------

It wasn't long before it was time to go on patrol in less than a week, and Emarth's concern was evident whenever he brought Sirya home. A few nights before they were meant to leave, Sirya was upset, and it was keeping Legolas from sleeping. The young boy's worry pulsed through Legolas' mind, and he resolved to getting up and going to see his father. Thranduil was sleeping peacefully, and Legolas felt guilty waking him.

"What is it ion nin?" Thranduil murmured.

"Sirya, his incessant worrying is keeping me up and I don't know why he worries. I ask and he does not respond."

"It's the end of the month, Legolas."

"I know-"

"That is what he is worried about."

Legolas sat on his father's bed, his eyes deep, lost in thought. "Can you not reassure him? Will you not keep him?"

"I worry still, Adar."

"Legolas, the alternative is to give the child up."

Legolas nodded. "I cannot do that."

"So you must do the other. There can be no more playing with this child's heart."

Legolas nodded, knowing his father was right. "Thank you ada."

Thranduil kissed his forehead and Legolas rose with shaking hands. He paced the floor of his suite, before finally gaining the resolve to commit to the child. He knocked on his door softly, although he knew Sirya was awake.

"Hello," Sirya said softly, and Legolas closed the door gently behind him.

"Hello. You cannot sleep?"

Sirya shook his head, his stuffed horse tucked in and peering at Legolas next to him.

"Do you wish to stay with me?" Legolas asked and sat on his bed.

"Mister Legolas-"

"Sirya." He said firmly.

"Yes," he whispered. "More than anything."

Legolas watched the emotions dance across the boy's expression.

"I wish for you to stay with me too."

The relief that washed into his aura brought tears to Sirya's eyes. "Truly?"

"Truly. I would like to adopt you. For you to be my son."

Sirya threw his arms around Legolas' neck and sobbed. "Thank you," he wept and Legolas smiled and kissed his cheek, "you truly want me?"

"Of course I want you. I enjoy our time together very much, and I wish for us to be together," Legolas reassured him, his hand tracing circles on his back. "Everyone will be so happy. Baineth and Emarth and Thranduil."

Sirya buried his face in Legolas' neck and Legolas hummed until Sirya grew sleepy again.

"We will celebrate tomorrow, but for now let's get some sleep, alright?"

"Ok," Sirya grinned, wiping tears from his face. "Thank you."

"Thank you." Legolas smiled and helped Sirya back under the covers. "Go to sleep, you have nothing to worry about."

The following morning before the sun, Sirya tried to open the door to Legolas' room quietly, but sensed that he had woken Legolas when the door creaked.

"It is morning?" He asked and crawled into Legolas' bed.

"Somewhat," Legolas yawned, and Sirya crawled under the covers so that he was just a moving bump under the blanke

"Your bed is so big," He mused, his tone dripping in curiosity. Legolas smiled, and Sirya nearly fell off.

"I am an adult," Legolas chuckled, pulling the covers off Sirya's head.

His hair stuck up in all directions, his eyes sleepy. Legolas smoothed his hair down and kissed his forehead. There was a knock at the door and Thranduil entered. Sirya was smiling and Thranduil sat on the bed.

"And what's going on here?" He asked and Sirya got back under the covers. Thranduil laughed and Legolas scratched the bump under the blanket. "You seem very happy today," Thranduil grinned.

"Mister Legolas said he will adopt me."

"He did?" Thranduil said, false surprise in his voice.

"Yes," Sirya said, a little quiet.

"That makes me you're daeradar then doesn't it?"

Sirya's grin spread and he stumbled toward Thranduil. Thranduil embraced him and took his face in his hands.

"If he didn't adopt you I was going to."

Sirya laughed and rested his head on Thranduil's shoulder.

"Daeradar," He whispered and Thranduil kissed his head.

"I would like to do the paperwork today," Legolas said and Sirya's head shot up.

"We can do that," Thranduil said and Sirya jumped on Legolas, "Thank you!"

"Let's get you dressed. My Adar's second will witness the signing."

The door opened and Emarth stood in the door frame with a letter in his hand, "My lord, it is from Haldir of the Galadhrim. About the elf in the forest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading! Please review with comments, questions, etc. I'm going to try to update a few times this week because school starts next week and I'll have far less time.


	8. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas leaves for patrol, and is handed more responsibility than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***There are mentions/ conversations about abuse in this chapter***

Soon it was time for Legolas to depart with the patrol, and Sirya was trying desperately to hide his fear. But Legolas would have to finalize the adoption when he returned, due to the absence of the officiant. Legolas had reassured him time and time again that it would be done the moment he returned, but unease plagued him. Legolas had sensed the confusion and fear in his young charge, and the day before he was due to depart he found Sirya under his bed.

"What is under here? That you find so interesting?" The jest left his tone at the sight of Sirya's tears. He had his stuffed animals around him, and his braids lay in the dust. "Sirya." Legolas said, concern leaking into his tone. "Come speak to me." Sirya remained silent and Legolas lay on his stomach. He stroked one of siryas braids and touched his cheek. "What is it? I beg you." He said softly.

"Why do you beg me?" He whispered. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I cannot leave if you are upset."

"Why not?" Legolas reached under the bed and grabbed Sirya under his arms. Sirya recoiled and pulled himself further under the bed, coiled in a tight ball against the wall.

"Because I care about you," Legolas said, stunned.

"But why?"

Legolas sighed, "Sirya, please come out here so I can talk to you. Properly."

He didn't move.

"Why do you doubt my love for you?" Legolas asked, a hint of anger in his tone. "I've given you everything you could possibly need, want. I've adopted you."

"You haven't," Sirya whined from behind his folded up legs. "You haven't adopted me."

"I haven't signed the paper." Legolas agreed, "but in my heart, you're my son."

"But you can just give me up."

"I don't want to do that," Legolas assured him. "Ever."

"You'll change your mind. Like my father did."

Legolas stood up and pulled the bed away from the wall. He walked around the bed and grabbed balled Sirya, lifting him into his arms. Sirya balked, hitting Legolas in the nose with his head. Legolas put him down and cupped his hands over his bleeding nose, his vision black but for floating stars. Sirya backed up and tripped over the edge of the bed, falling and hitting his arm. He began to cry and Thranduil walked in.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Yes, I need a moment," Legolas murmured and dashed from the room. He stared at himself in his mirror, wiping the blood from his nose. How could the child believe that? With all he had done? Could he stay home, leave Emarth in charge of the patrol until Sirya was more stable? He couldn't leave Emarth to Arthon, they would surely kill each other. He had an appointment with Haldir… He stormed from the room, and Thranduil was sitting in the rocking chair with Sirya in his arms. Legolas' nose was still bleeding, and Thranduil's face contorted in disgust and surprise at the sight of his son's face. Legolas lifted Sirya out of Thranduil's arms and Thranduil stood to allow him to sit. Legolas did, Sirya's face buried in his neck.

"I felt that you and I had a connection from the moment we met, and from that moment I knew I could never give you up. That we were connected. That is why I care about you. Why I wish for you to stay here with me. For you to be happy." Sirya was playing with Legolas' hair behind his back. His eyes closed tight. "I cannot go if you are this unhappy."

"I don't want you to go," Sirya whispered.

"I know, and I don't want to either. But I must, it is my duty. You are strong now, penneth, and have many around you that care. You and your daeradar can have all sorts of adventures you can tell me about when I return."

"What if you don't return?"

"I will return. I promise. And the first thing we will do is sign those papers. I wish we could do it now, Sirya, I truly do."

Sirya's hand found Legolas' tunic, "I hurt you."

"I'm alright," Legolas said tenderly.

"I'm a bad person."

Legolas smiled and lifted him into his arms as he stood. "Never." He said softly and kissed the side of his head. "I understand why you're afraid. But I would never hurt you, you know that right?" Sirya nodded. "I'll be back. It will seem like a long time, but it isn't, and when I return I'll be happier than ever to see you. It's ok to be afraid, but try to trust me. Trust your daeradar." He nodded and Legolas grinned. "I trust you too. I trust you to be good to Baineth and your daeradar while I'm gone, and to do as they ask." Sirya nodded and Legolas kissed his cheek. Sirya spent the remainder of the day playing with his toys silently on Legolas' floor as he packed. He told Sirya his entire itinerary, and it seemed to ease his mind. After dinner, Legolas put Sirya in the bath and sat at his desk to write a letter to Elrond, telling him of Sirya and his troubles. Sirya emerged from the bath as he was finishing it, and stood silently in the middle of the floor. Water dripped from his hair, and he rocked slowly back and forth.

"Come, I'm at my desk." Legolas said softly and Sirya tottered over to him. Legolas took the towel from his shoulders and rubbed his hair with it.

"I don't feel well," Sirya nearly whispered.

"What ails you?" Legolas asked and dried his face.

"My stomach. My leg."

Legolas wrapped the towel around his small waist and pulled him into his lap. He bent forward to look at Sirya's leg, poking and prodding gently.

"Here?" He asked, poking where he had his surgery.

"Yes. It feels funny."

"You are overtired, we'll have some tea and go to sleep."

Sirya nodded and Legolas set him down on the ground again. He followed him to his room and helped him into his pajamas like he had when he first came to him. Legolas then took his hand and lead him back into his room where he sat at his bureau and pulled Sirya up onto his knees. He began to brush his hair, and Sirya sighed.

"Who will brush my hair while you are gone?"

"Your daeradar," Legolas assured him. "He will stay in here so he can be with you and he'll brush your hair and put you to bed just as I do."

Sirya picked at his fingernails until Legolas was finished and he ran his hand through Sirya's silky black hair.

"Would you like to sleep in here?"

"I can?"

"Just this once, I suppose," Legolas smiled and Sirya nearly smiled in return. He got them two cups of chamomile tea and they sat in Legolas' bed.

"Legolas," Sirya said softly.

"Yes?"

"Does Emarth live alone?"

"He lives with his sister," Legolas said, sipping his tea.

"He does not have a wife? Children?"

"No, he does not."

"He does not have a family?"

"His parents died a long time ago, it is just him and his sister now."

"I feel sad for him," Sirya said, stirring his tea with his finger.

"He has us, we are his family, are we not?"

Sirya turned toward Legolas with a smile, "I guess we are."

"We are. We love him and he loves us."

Sirya grinned, content with the thought, and Legolas was delighted with himself. Once Sirya finished his tea he put it on the side table and lay down, his mind wide awake. Legolas lay with him, and Sirya wrapped his hand around his tunic.

"What about you?"

"Me?" Legolas' stomach clenched.

"You are not married and you do not have children. It is just you and Thranduil?" Sirya had an urgency in his voice.

"Yes, it is just me and my adar. My naneth sailed when I was very young, and I will tell you why when you are older."

"What of Thranduil's adar? Nana?"

"Thranduil's ada died in battle many years ago, and his nana died soon after of grief."

"That is very sad," Sirya said, but sounded relieved.

"He does not like to talk about it, so use caution."

"Why do you not marry?"

"I have not found anyone I wish to marry," Legolas grinned.

"Not Baineth?"

Legolas' heart stopped, "I have just met Baineth."

"But do you like her?"

"I-" he paused, and Sirya giggled. "Alright time for bed," he said with artificial sternness in his voice.

"Goodnight, Legolas," Sirya said, snuggling close to his chest.

Legolas put his arm around him and nuzzled his face in his hair, "Goodnight, Sirya."

Legolas woke early, as he always had to on patrol days, and tried not to wake Sirya as he dressed. Nestil, his servant, helped him into his many layers of leather, cotton, and suede that constituted his patrol uniform. He braided his hair intricately from his face and tight against his head, and Legolas strapped on his weapons. Sirya woke as he put on his quiver, and sat silently and listened. Legolas walked toward the bed, his layers of leather and metal rubbing and clanking like a suit or armor. Sirya touched his leather wrist guard, and ran his hands up the leather strap and onto his quiver and bow.

"I had forgotten," he murmured softly.

"It is only the uniform. There is little danger," Legolas assured him, however, he knew soon that would not be the case.

"You will still want me when you come back?" his voice wavered, and tears gathered in his eyelashes.

"Yes, of course," Legolas assured him, pulling him into his arms. "I am only going into the woods to check on the villages, that is all. Nothing is changing."

"…Ok…"

"Try to trust me, penneth."

"I…"

"Just try."

Sirya nodded and Legolas kissed his temple.

"Are you to see me off?" Sirya nodded, the tears flowing again. "Wish me luck, I have a lot of important things I hope to figure out."

"Good luck." He squeaked doubtfully. Legolas rubbed his back and they walked down to the stable, where the rest of the team was assembled. Emarth looked worried, and Legolas tried to smile supportively, but he himself was nervous about the condition of this patrol mission.

Legolas looked at Sirya, "Emarth is here. Do you want to wish him luck as well?"

Sirya wiped his face and turned. Emarth glanced knowingly at Legolas, and lifted him out of Legolas' arms.

"Goodbye." Sirya said shakily, fresh tears flowing.

"I'll see you very soon. I'll bring back lilacs for you," Emarth promised. Legolas took the extra sword from his back and held it out proudly to Emarth. Emarth took it, his mouth agape.

"Legolas I-"

"It is brand new, I had it forged for you from the finest materials available. It had a diamond herald on the bottom, your herald, with mine underneath, smaller. I worked on it a bit myself but my hands were full this past week."

"It, its beautiful," he said and put Sirya down in a fog. Sirya's hand firmly grasped Emarth's tunic, and he pulled the sword from the scabbard. It caught the attention of the team, and it gleamed blinding silver in the sunlight. The diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and sapphires in the heraldic devices were freshly polish and glimmering breathtakingly. "I do not know what to say. How to thank you."

"It is I who is to thank you. Say you love it, as long as it is true," Legolas smirked.

"I do love it I, I do not deserve such a gift-"

"You do. It is not out of pity. I cannot have my second fighting with a broken blade."

Emarth grinned and attached the scabbard before sheathing his sword.

"Thank you, Legolas."

Sirya smiled and Emarth kissed his hair. Arthon was glaring at Emarth, and Legolas made sure to catch his gaze. He hurriedly adjusted his attitude, and Legolas took Sirya back. He waited for Baineth for a few more minutes and talked to his father and to his team, but there was no sign of her. Legolas gave Sirya one last kiss.

"I'll be back soon."

Sirya nodded, his lip trembling.

"I love you," Legolas offered.

"I love you!" Sirya cried.

"I love you, very much. I'll be back soon," Thranduil took Sirya from his hands and embraced Legolas, squishing Sirya between them.

"Be safe," Thranduil said in westron so it wouldn't concern Sirya.

"I will," He said and turned to mount his horse. Thranduil was smiling and talking to Sirya already, and he turned and rode away from the scene, not looking back. He was disappointed Baineth didn't show, but why would she? She didn't owe him anything. Unease settled in his chest. She probably despised him, doing everything he ever asked her to do. Helping him with his child problems. He hadn't even asked her, he had expected her to be willing… When he returned he would talk to her. He sighed, the span of his trip felt like ages.

"What happened to your nose?" Loth asked, shattering his guilt-ridden reverie.

"Sirya was upset yesterday morning, and accidentally hit me in the face." He said quietly.

"Is it broken?"

"No." Legolas assured him, "I'm fine, honestly."

They rode until dark and made camp. Emarth laid out his bedroll between Legolas and Loth, and read by the firelight well into the night. Legolas couldn't sleep, guilt stirred in his stomach over Sirya and Baineth.

"Go to sleep," Legolas whispered to Emarth.

"I am alright-"

"Try. I'm awake, I'm paying attention."

Emarth's gaze fell shamefully, and Legolas shook his head sternly. "It is alright, please."

Emarth nodded and fell asleep promptly. Legolas watched the stars, letting his mind wander to Baineth. He knew nothing about her. Her age, her family. He had never asked. He went to her like a beaten child when he needed, and discarded her when she was not. She was always kind, gentle, understanding… but hurt had to be present. She was the mother to many elflings, and Legolas had forced her hand in aiding him. A relationship that had bloomed in attraction had turned to one of misuse.

Arthon had not bothered anyone that night, and in the morning they made their way to the first village. By midafternoon they had made their way to the fourth. They made incredible progress, which was good for Legolas' goal of speaking to Haldir about the fugitive elf he had arrested from Mirkwood forest. They slew some spiders and orcs that posed no problem and moved on to the final. He spoke to the village leader who needed no assistance and had nothing to report, so Legolas moved on to Lothlorien. The Marchwarden met him in the field, his patrol behind him.

"Mae Govannen," he greeted.

"Mae govannen," Legolas bowed, "I appreciate your swift response to my inquiry."

Haldir began walking, "we arrested him not two weeks ago. He put up quite a fight, breaking one of my guard's feet, and another's nose. He does not speak to anyone, and he eats just enough to keep himself strong."

"Interesting," Legolas' mind churned through questions he had.

"What is interesting is his accent," Haldir nodded, his eyes suggestive.

"Does he speak Sindarin, or is his quenya accent too heavy to suggest fluency?"

"He certainly speaks Sindarin, but he speaks enough Quenya when shouting at us or talking to himself," the child you recovered, what is his name?" Haldir asked, recalling detail from Legolas' letter.

"Sirya," Legolas said.

"Sirya," He repeated, "certainly not Sindarin."

They climbed into the flet of the marchwarden, and Emarth and Arthon following, as well as Haldir's two guards, Orophin and Rumil.

"He has a marking," Haldir began, pulling a scroll from his pack. There was whispering between Emarth and Arthon, and Legolas turned, enraged at their unprofessional behavior. Arthon tugged a leather cord on Emarth's belt and his sword fell from the flet. Arthon looked up at Legolas, horror in his eyes. Emarth stared at the ground with his mouth open, unable to meet Legolas' enraged gaze. He turned back to Haldir, who stared at Arthon with disgust.

"I apologize for the revolting behavior of my guards," Legolas said through gritted teeth, "this is as shocking to me as it is to you."

"Your guards have always been professional," Haldir nodded, "I am equally surprised."

After more discussion of the prisoner, they returned to the ground to go to see him. At the base of the tree, Legolas turned to Arthon, "You. Go and find his sword IMMEDIATELY," he roared, "and DO NOT RETURN UNTIL YOU DO."

"Legolas I-"

"Do NOT address me so informally, soldier," Legolas growled.

Arthon dashed into the woods after the sword, and Legolas turned to Emarth.

"I'm so sorry- I didn't- I tried to- I-" Emarth stuttered, shaking.

"It wasn't your doing," Legolas said, his rage evident in his voice. "Why is it that none of you have told me of this prior to now?" He roared to the group. "You are all mandatory reporters when it comes to harassment in the team! I am horrifically disappointed in all of you." The team looked disappointed, and their gazes avoided Legolas. "I am absolutely humiliated!" he shouted, Arthon walking back with the sword. "I am going to have to drastically rethink this team. You are the team of the royal house. I hand picked all of you, out of hundreds. Hundreds of elves would do anything to be on this team, and none of you respect that position half as much as is necessary. "How long has this been going on?"

"Months," A few of them said quietly.

"Months. This terrorization of MY second in command has been going on for MONTHS and not one of you told me? Emarth is an extension of me, and any attack on Emarth I consider to be an attack on myself." He said, looking at Arthon.

"You cannot even begin to imagine the amount of hot water you have put yourself in," He looked at the horse mane hanging from his mane and tore it off in one savage motion. Arthon flinched and gasped, and Legolas handed it to Emarth. He snatched the sword from Arthon's hands and examined it. It had a large ding on the handle and a few of the stones had fallen out of the hilt from the impact. He pulled the sword from the scabbard and the blade seemed nearly perfect minus a chip on one side.

"If this sword hadn't been crafted for hours by master swordmakers and myself, it would have been beyond repair. It is bad enough the damage you have done to him and I can only imagine, his belongings. You have drawn attention away from the entire team, and focused them all on your childish behavior. This is why he receives honors, and you do not. Because even though you have been torturing him for months, I never even got a hint of that from his work. My safety and his duty were always his first priority. We will talk about this further when we return home, with my father."

Arthon stared at him, his eyes wide and filled with unfallen tears. Emarth's fell onto his cheeks, months of agony and worry relieved all at once. Justice finally handed to him in place of torment. Legolas pulled his sharpening tool from his pack and leaned against a rock. He sharpened the dent from Emarth's sword with such care, that the rest of the team watched in awe, and added shame. When he was finished he turned it over in his wrist a few times, the blade singing through the air. He sheathed it and handed it to Arthon.

"Give him his sword. You are the one that took it from him."

Arthon held it out to Emarth, and Legolas kicked his knees so he would fall to the ground. "He ranks far too high above you now, for you to not kneel in his presence."

Arthon bowed his head, humiliated tears falling to the ground. Emarth took the sword from Arthon's hands shakily and tied it nervously to his belt. "This is the very least you can do as you begin to apologize," Legolas spat.

He walked away and Emarth followed him hurriedly, wiping his eyes with his forearm and awkwardly trying to attach his scabbard. The rest of the group followed, Loth's arm around Emarth's shoulders. Arthon followed last, silent and reluctant in his heavy steps. Legolas could hear Emarth's teeth chattering, and he turned.

"Listen to me," he whispered, "it is alright now. Don't be upset. Stay here with the team, I'll take Amrahil with me."

"I am alright, I just-"

"Take a few minutes, Amrahil can handle it for an hour or so."

Emarth nodded and Loth was talking to him as Amrahil hurried to catch up to the prince. "Hir nin I-"

"I do not particularly wish to hear excuses just now."

"I apologize, hir nin. But I did tell you-"

"When?"

"I left you a note. I left it with your guard."

"When?"

"A few weeks after our last return, I hadn't noticed it before then. Emarth always said nothing."

"That was Arthon," Legolas said, "he was my guard, it was Arthon and the trainee."

"I didn't realize. He had his helmet on-"

"I understand why I did not get it, thank you Amrahil."

They reached Lorien's holding cells, and Legolas left Amrahil outside the door. Haldir was within, staring at the prisoner. His hair was black and stringy, and his head was between his knees in the corner. His clothes were torn, as if he had been dragged through the forest by horses.

"He looked that way when we found him," Haldir explained.

"Herenvarno," Haldir said and he didn't move. Legolas' eyebrows rose. Holy quenya, he thought to himself, and Haldir gave him a look that read the same. "You have a visitor I think you should be particularly interested in.

His head rose slowly, meeting Legolas' eyes at an angle that ensured he looked demonic. Legolas was taken aback, and once his gaze truly met Legolas' he was looking into Sirya's eyes.

"Herenvarno," he said, trying to pronounce it correctly, "I am Legolas Thranduilion, Prince of Mirkwood. I have information of particular interest to you, and your responses will certainly help you get out of here faster, at least at the charges of Mirkwood."

Herenvarno stared, "delightful."

"Why did you dig that moat around your property?"

"To keep the damn orcs out," He spat. Legolas could hear the accent well.

"It was not to keep anything in?"

Herenvarno quirked an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What is it you want?"

"I want to know what the moat was for, and what happened to your son."

He stood, "how do you know about my son?"

"What was the moat for?"

"How do you know about him!"

"What was the moat for?" Legolas said firmly.

"My son kept wandering off, chasing animals into the Mirkwood. The moat was to keep him in, and the bad things out."

"What happened to him?"

"I- I don't know."

"What happened to him?"

"He fell in the moat and died!" He sputtered. "Why do you torture me?"

"How did he fall in?"

"I-"

"How did he fall?"

"I was angry-"

"HOW DID HE FALL?"

"I was drunk and angry! I hit him, he ran and fell in!" He cried.

"You made a habit of hitting him?"

"You don't understand, he never behaved, I was alone-"

"You hit him every day?"

"I had to!" He yelled defensively. "Why do you want to know? I've told you what you asked!"

"Where are you from?" Legolas asked coolly.

"Originally, Eregion, in the times of Telperinquar, excuse me, Celebrimbor," He corrected sarcastically.

"You are of the Noldor?"

"Clearly," he said and sighed, "what of my son?"

"Why do you ask of him when you yourself said he was dead?" Haldir chimed in.

"I want to know how you knew about him. He has been dead for nearly a year."

"Why didn't you jump down into that ditch to see if he was dead?" Legolas asked, his anger filling him.

"He was very clearly dead-"

"He was not dead! He is in my custody!"

"What?" Herenvarno cried his hands in his hair.

"He is horribly damaged, forever marred by your horrible custodial methods!"

"I want my son back."

"You cannot have him back," Legolas spat.

Herenvarno narrowed his eyes, "how dare you. You believe stealing my son will somehow improve your life? Regardless of what you do with him, Sirya is my son, and always will be. He will never be your son, nor will he ever see you as his father."

Legolas' heart sank, but his anger and jealousy bubbled. "Regardless of what you do, kinslayer, Sirya is my child now, and loves me more than he could ever love you, an abuser."

Herenvarno approached the bars. "Release me, coward. You have no reason to hold me."

"I am not holding you. The lady Galadriel does."

"Galadriel? Artanis?"

Legolas stared at him. He did not know her quenya name.

Haldir took over, "you committed many crimes, including the unspeakable crimes you committed against your son."

"What crimes?" He asked.

"Did you not beat him? Dig a ravine so he could not escape? Then leave him in it to die?"

"No- I was, I was panicking-"

"To which element?"

He gasped, "I cannot believe Sirya was in that ravine? For all that time?"

"For many months. When we found him he was nearly dead."

"Can I see him? Please-" he begged.

"He is not here, he is days away. He is still not well enough to travel."

"What has happened to him?"

"Burns, broken bones and torn muscles, bites and scrapes. He is entirely blind. Not to mention the countless scars and digs from your hand. A horse whip? Honestly? On a child so small?"

"He does not see?" Herenvarno gasped, ignoring Legolas.

"No," Legolas said cruelly, "He is all yours, Haldir, with the exception of the charges placed against him by Mirkwood. You may add those to your sentencing."

Haldir nodded and Legolas turned to leave, Herenvarno shouting at him in Quenya as he left, slamming his hands viciously against the bars.

"I appreciate your help," Legolas sighed, emotionally exhausted from the day's wears.

"And I yours. Have a safe journey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and for your support! I love reviews! ;) This was a long one.
> 
> **If you are not familiar, Quenya is the language of the elves from Valinor. The language is often frowned upon by Sindarin elves such as Legolas and Haldir because of its association with the Noldor, elves that were notorious in the past for murdering hundreds of Sindarin elves. It was outlawed in the past, and all Noldor were forced to learn Sindarin and to change their names to Sindarin names, hence Herenvarno's dig about Telperinquar/Celebrimbor.**


	9. Nightsong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas returns from patrol with a few tricks up his sleeve.

"Hear that?" Thranduil asked Sirya in his arms. The wind whipped through the courtyard, blowing Sirya's hair into Thranduil's face.

"What?" Thranduil adjusted his hold on his grandson and pushed his dark hair behind his ear. They were standing in the courtyard with all of the other family members of the patrol, the guards holding open the doors for the incoming horses.

"That sound."

Sirya was silent. "Horses?"

"Indeed," Sirya smiled and bounced in Thranduil's arms.

Thranduil grinned, and hooves clattering over the stone as the patrol entered. Emarth, holding Legolas' banner, entered first. He looked worse than he had when he left, and Thranduil ignored the shudder of dread that ran through him. Legolas followed, looking exhausted himself. "There he is." Thranduil smiled and put Sirya down. He took his hand and let Sirya drag him toward the horses. Legolas smiled and hopped off his horse, lifting Sirya into his arms and spinning around. Sirya giggled and wrapped his arms around Legolas' neck like a vice. Legolas looked around for Baineth, with no sign of her, and Thranduil shrugged and put his hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know."

"Has she been around?"

"Yes, and I thought she would be here."

Legolas ran his hands through Sirya's soft hair and kissed his head. "How was your month?"

"Good, but I missed you."

"I missed you too. Where's Dolgir?"

"In my office." Thranduil winked.

"Ok, let's go see him."

"Who's Dolgir?" Sirya asked.

"The officiant," Sirya gasped and Legolas grinned, Sirya's arms wrapping around him tighter. "I told you, the moment I got back."

Legolas put Sirya down and took his hand, and together they walked upstairs to the officiant. When they arrived, Legolas had to sign a dozen or so papers, and the officiant told him what each was.

"This is the final one. Once you sign this one the adoption is permanent."

Legolas paused and Sirya tensed. Thranduil nodded to him, and Legolas signed the paper, deriving tears from Sirya and a fluttering heart from Legolas.

"Thank you," Sirya whispered, his small body shaking against Legolas.

Legolas pulled him into his lap as Dolgir signed the bottom of each document, and smoothed his hand over his hair. When he was finished, he handed Legolas a copy of each, carefully folded and sealed with wax.

"Congratulations," Dolgir said with a nod and pat Sirya's back.

"Thank you," Legolas said and Thranduil embraced them both. Sirya was shaking, and Legolas carried him back to their suite where he had to file charges against both Herenvarno and Arthon. Sirya sat on the floor, playing happily with his horses. Thranduil entered, and Legolas put down his quill.

"I would like to tell you both something," Legolas said. Sirya put down his horses and Thranduil leaned in the doorframe. "I saw your father a few weeks ago, while on patrol, Sirya."

Sirya stilled.

"He is in prison, in Lorien, answering for many crimes he committed. Not just the crimes he committed against you, but many more as well."

"Did he talk to you?" Sirya asked softly.

"Yes, he admitted to all of the things you told me. He will not be out of jail for a very long time."

Sirya seemed relieved, and visibly relaxed and pat one of his horses.

"What of Arthon?" Thranduil asked. Legolas handed him the report, and Thranduil was speechless.

"I am stunned."

"So am I," Legolas sighed, signing the report.

"I'll gather the council for tomorrow."

Legolas spent the rest of the day with Sirya, telling him stories of his patrol and listening to Sirya's own stories. Once he was in bed, Legolas put on some of his finest clothes and walked down to Baineth's apartment. She answered the door, and looked surprised to see him.

"Legolas, is something wrong with Sirya?"

"No," he said guiltily, "may I come in?"

"Sure." She said, stepping aside.

"I'd like to call on you tonight." He said, his heart pounding. He pulled a small handful of Emarth's lavender from his pocket.

She stared at him, and pushed hair behind her ear. "Legolas I, I don't understand-"

"I know, and I'd like to explain."

"I, I have another caller tonight, Legolas." She said softly.

His heart slammed to a stop, and his lungs restricted. "Oh." He stammered, jamming the lavender into his pocket.

"I'm sorry." She said, touching his elbow.

"It's perfectly alright." He said, sounding as if his lungs had stopped working.

"I- I didn't think you were interested."

He stared at her. "Me? Not interested? I know I made you feel that way and I hadn't realized it. Not until you didn't come to see me off. Baineth, I-" the words died on his lips. He what? "I didn't mean to let my problems drive my feeling from you. They were always there, I just… he needed me-"

"I know." She said quietly, followed by a groan.

"Come with me tonight, please."

She looked at her clock. "Alright." He smiled and held out the lavender like a child. A grin spread across her lips, and Legolas' heart was glad. He offered her his hand and she took it, and together they walked out into the night.

Hours were spent curling around trees, crickets' song narrating their journey through the wood. Their time softened their hearts, and settled within love found its home. She relaxed his concerns and smoothed and showed him that life was not as stressful as he found it. Life was beautiful and kind, and there was nothing that couldn't be solved. They splashed barefoot through the stream, and carried home handfuls of wild flowers. She wore a tiara of messy larkspur and roses that Legolas wove hastily for her while he chased her along the garden wall. She had giggled, and wove him his own of ivy and bleeding heart. He'd slept happily that night, the perfume of the cool night air resting in his chamber.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas waited in the council room, his position evident sitting next to his father's high backed chair. He wore his council clothing, far finer than his daily wear. His father too looked far nicer, his crown upon his head. With them sat Emarth, (who appeared ill to any casual observer), Thranduil's second, as well as the director of the military education program, and the commander of defense next to Loth and Amrahil. Arthon had been summoned, and they waited. Before Legolas lay Emarth's two swords, dented and dinged, his horse's mane, as well as a pair of boots and a book arthon had destroyed. There was a lock of Emarth's hair that had been torn from his head while he slept, and a dagger ruined between two rocks. Legolas straightened once Arthon arrived, his cloak sweeping the door frame as he entered. Arthon's mother had braided his hair nicely, fine braids swooping around his ears. He fell to one knee, his hand on his chest.

The captain of defense stood, "Arthon, as a member of the Royal southern patrol, you have been summoned by the prince Legolas, your captain, for treason against him by severe harassment of his second, captain Emarth of the Royal Guard. It has been so stated that this behavior was direct and intentional, and was used as a fear tactic to intimidate the captain from his position as second to the prince, allowing you said position. What do you plead?"

"Guilty." He nearly whispered, never raising his head.

"Could you go through the items on the table and identify their cause of damage for us."

Arthon stood, and Emarth watched with nervous quivers traveling through his body. He started from the most recent side. "Prince Legolas caught me, as I threw the sword from a flet in Lorien." He said quietly.

"His new sword, the one the prince had gifted to him?" Thranduil asked.

Arthon nodded. "His previous sword I hit against a boulder while he bathed. I then cut the laces and tongue from his boots, and the soles on a previous trip. I cut the mane from his horse and wore it for roughly a month on my armor." His voice shook, "I snapped his dagger." Tears fell from his eyes. "I tore this hair from his head as he slept." His words were becoming hard to understand. "I threw this book in the lake while he swam."

"Were there more?" the captain of defense asked.

Arthon looked up for the first time, his eyes bright red and full of tears. "Yes." He admitted. Emarth looked at the ground, and Arthon put his hand in his pocket and put a ring on the table. "Insects in water and mud and spit in lembas-" he choked. "Broken arrows and-" he stopped, unable to control his voice.

"What of things you said? Intellectual is not excusable." He looked up, his eyes never finding Emarth's.

"Pray speak, Loth." He looked at Legolas as he spoke.

"He would convince members of the team of untrue acts Emarth had committed, and spoke ill of his sister. He called him everything he could, and convinced Emarth that he was unworthy of Legolas service. Emarth hasn't slept on patrol in months, and Arthon always pressed, always tried to push him over the edge. He had a team member once convinced that Emarth was weak and unintelligent, and lost respect for Emarth in the process. He also sabotaged the healing of one of his wounds."

Legolas' eyebrows shot up as well as Emarth's.

"How so?" The captain asked.

"When wounded on patrol, Arthon replaced his healing salve with one of poison, attempting to cause infection, I'm sure."

"Did you also hear and see these things?" The captain asked Amrahil.

"Yes, sir."

"It has been stated that you also stole confidential mail from the prince." Arthon was wiping at his tears.

"Yes, I did."

"Is there anything you wish to say? Before we deliberate?" Arthon grasped at the table.

"There's nothing that can excuse my behavior, and I'm terribly sorry. I hope that given time, lord Emarth can forgive me." Emarth was staring at the table, picking at the linens.

"Thank you, please wait outside while we deliberate." It only took them moments to deliberate, and Arthon was called back in.

"Arthon." Thranduil began and Arthon swallowed sharply. "Aside from my overwhelming disappointment in your revolting behavior, we found your actions to be by far inexcusable by any means. As a captain in the guard, given generous opportunities for one so young, you should have been grateful to have been in the Royal guard at all. You had immense potential and high honors from your professors, and were to be promoted over time to a higher position I am sure. Sabotaging a higher ranking officer to the point of fear of leaving his home, as well as damaging his personal property used to protect his master, whom you swore to serve, is sabotaging the prince himself. Your jealousy was evil, and intended to inflict serious physical and intellectual wounds. Lord Emarth or the prince could have been killed or maimed from your deeds. Therefore, we have charged you with treason. My hands are bound by the law to do so, by attacking the prince's body guard and leaving him unarmed several times while protecting him."

"No." Arthon sobbed, "not treason, please, I am loyal! I will do anything!"

"Therefore," Thranduil continued, "you will be stripped of your position, your title, your honors, and your diploma from the military school." Arthon had his hands over his face. "Emarth is under protected code, meaning you are not to associate with him without prior written consent and supervision with a higher ranking officer. You will take employment at the military school as an assistant in the team building classes, teaching the importance of teamwork and love between team members to elflings, and will pay Emarth monthly for replacement of his property until full debt is repaid. After which you can reapply to the second phase of the military training program, relearning team building skills yourself, before we shall re-adjourn to consider lifting the treason warrant from your record. Simply out of mercy for your age and first offense." Arthon was sobbing, his braids falling out and hanging in his face. "May the valar have mercy with your genuinely troubled soul. As for Emarth." His head lifted. "Upon examination Telion and Loth deemed you currently unfit for duty, claiming your mental status was fragile and incredibly shaken. You have been given two months of paid recovery leave from the guard. After which you shall be reexamined. Followed by a year of leave if not recovered, paid at half wager."

Emarth looked horrified, and Arthon sobbed harder. "I'm so sorry!" He screamed, his fingers raking down his face, "I didn't know! I didn't realize! I-" he broke down, and Emarth watched him, his hand over his mouth.

They rose and swept from the council room, Emarth shaking violently.

"I'm sorry, I had to-" Loth said quickly to him, "you need the time, I couldn't lie."

"I know." Emarth said quickly, his eyes wide. "Legolas." He murmured, "what does it mean-"

" it just means take some time to get yourself back on track. It is not a negative thing. And don't you dare worry about the one year portion, we'll deal with it when we get there, it won't happen."

"I won't get to be your herald-"

"it won't happen." Legolas assured him. Emarth nodded and Legolas smiled and put his hand on his shoulder. "You're alright. Nothing is wrong with you." Legolas whispered. "Arthon clearly almost got what he wanted, and that will take some recovery time."

"My sister… she will be disappointed in me."

"No, do not allow her to bother you. This is about you, not her. You can stay in the royal wing, if you wish."

"I do not wish to intrude-"

"It is not an intrusion. Please."

"Thank you," Emarth choked. Legolas smiled sadly and tapped his shoulder.

"Go home, get your things. You can stay in the Gold room."

His mouth fell open. The gold room was nearly the quality of Thranduil's room and was for guests of particular valor. "Thank you."

Legolas returned to his room, and on his desk lie a letter, wrapped in fine blue ribbon. He unraveled it, Baineth brushing Sirya's hair.

_Legolas,_

_I am troubled to hear of the treatment of the poor child. When you return from patrol, consider coming to Rivendell to see me. I have aided blind men in the past, and can teach the child some techniques for taking care of himself. As always, bring whomever you would like. Wish your father all the best for me._

_Lord Elrond_  
\----------------------------------------

"Arthon." His mother spat, and he ignored her and sat on the floor in front of the door, nearly a hundred pages of documents in his hand. "Where have you been? You left hours ago."

He held out the pile and she took it in her hands. 'Dishonorable discharge.' Was splattered over the front of the first page, and the following were all retractions of his honors.

"Arthon." She whispered, and his father entered. He took them from her, rage growing with each page.

"Arthon, how could you do these things?" He growled. "How could you humiliate us like this?"

"Adar I-"

"You poisoned an officer? Have you seen the money in reparations you owe this captain? The prince's body guard, of course. Treason."

"I can be reinstated-" Arthon cried. "They'll never reinstate you! You assaulted the prince's guard! You're lucky they did not arrest you!"

Arthon clawed at his face. "You told me to advance by whatever means!"

"I didn't think you were stupid enough to do such a thing!"

"I'm sorry!"

His father raked his hand through his hair, "leave."

"What?"

"Leave. We cannot have someone who committed treason in our home. Our business... We'll be out in the forest."

"That is where I shall be if you make me leave!"

"Get out!" His father roared, throwing the stack of papers in his face, "you disgraceful traitor!"

Arthon sought a bed to sleep with a fistful of money all night, but news traveled fast, and Arthon was unwelcome. They turned their heads in disgust, and even spat before his feet. He had imagined punishment, but never had he imagined that treason would be the sentence. It was a low level of treason, but to these people treason was treason. He found a discarded pony cart before the gate he turned over and slept under. He would normally go to Legolas for help, but Legolas hated him. He'd endangered Emarth as well, compromising his self-confidence, making him think he was only Legolas' herald out of pity for being so useless... Emarth had always been on his side. Why would he do that? Emarth convinced Legolas to give him a chance. He taught Arthon how to string his bow. Tears fell from his eyes, at the thought of Emarth's face when his sword had fallen. His face when they gave him leave. How could he?  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Emarth showed at Legolas' door, a bag in hand. "Thank you again."

"Of course. Come I'll help you settle in."

Sirya got up, already in his pajamas. "Legolas said you're to stay here for a time."

"Indeed, little one." Emarth grinned sadly.

"Come with us, Emarth is a little sad today," Legolas said and took Sirya's hand.

"Why are you sad Emarth?" Sirya asked and his hand found Emarth's side.

"Someone was very mean to Emarth and made him sad," Legolas explained.

Sirya took Emarth's hand, and Legolas smiled. He opened the door to the gold room and Emarth smiled. It's bed was large enough for a half dozen people, satin canopy hugging it's pillow covered surface. It had a fine sofa with expensive silvers and a picture window that looked out over the water.

"Are you sure you wish to give me this room?"

"Yes."

"You don't have to pity me."

"I don't. You're my second, my herald. Why wouldn't I want the best for you?" he smiled and Sirya climbed on the bed. "Sirya, that's very impolite," Legolas scolded.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly and Emarth shrugged.

"It's alright, just ask next time."

He nodded and got down, making a beeline to where he sensed Emarth.

He embraced him and continued to unpack. "Sirya, Emarth is here but you must make sure to ask before entering. He's on vacation to rest up not to chase you around alright?" Sirya nodded and Legolas watched as he struggled to keep it together in front of Sirya. "Time for bed, Emarth needs sleep too."

"Goodnight Emarth."

"Goodnight Sirya."

Legolas put Sirya to bed and brought wine in, Emarth sitting on the couch. "Do you wish to be alone? I won't be insulted."

"No actually. Just the opposite." Legolas had a stack of papers in his hand, and emarth stared at them. "What is all that?"

"It's every single field report I had on you since you became my herald to this week."

"It is?"

"Yes. And I'd like to give you all of them to read. You don't have to, obviously, but they're yours."

"Why?" "Because I want you to know I didn't keep you out of pity. I don't do pity." Legolas flipped through. "Emarth, as always, has shown spectacular leadership, and is always calm under pressure. His kindness towards his team is astonishing, and he continues to teach and lead by example in ways I never thought possible." That's just a random day. Every one is similar. It's me, being grateful to have you."

Emarth nodded, flipping through them. "Thanks Legolas."

Legolas smiled and left him, planning to write to Elrond in the morning. But the morning came sooner than he had hoped, and Legolas woke late that night to Sirya screaming in his room. Legolas rushed and got up, lighting a candle and bringing it with him.

"No, no please!" He cried, and Legolas pulled him from his bed and into his arms.

"It's just a dream." He said quickly, Sirya's sheets wrapped around him.

"Legolas! Please!"

"It's just a dream."

He soothed again, smoothing his sweaty forehead with his hand. "Legolas, my Adar, he put me outside for the night again."

"It was just a dream, dear one." Legolas murmured. "You're here with me, warm in your bed."

"Please, Legolas, my Adar-"

"He's never coming back my love," Legolas said quietly.

Sirya was drenched in sweat, his eyes red and bloodshot. "Don't leave me."

"I'm not," Thoughts of Rivendell stayed in his mind, "Let's get you in the bath, yes?"

Sirya nodded, and Legolas lifted him into his arms, wishing for the sweetness of the forest the previous night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading please review


	10. Imladris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group arrives in Imladris, a little less organized than expected.

"Say goodbye once more, and then we must go." Legolas said and Sirya hugged Thranduil.

"I will be here when you return." Thranduil grinned, and ran his hand through Sirya's hair.

Sirya nodded, and Emarth took him from Thranduil and lifted him onto Legolas' horse before getting onto his own. Sirya wrapped his hands around Legolas' cloak, and Legolas adjusted Sirya so he was seated comfortably in front of him. Legolas looked over at Baineth, Amrahil, and Loth to see if they were ready. They were all on their horses, their belongings secured. Loth looked far too eager to go, as he was excited to meet Lord Elrond. Legolas waved to his father once more before following Emarth from the courtyard. Sirya chatted happily, keeping the mood of the group cheerful until he grew tired and sat still and thoughtful until nightfall, when they stopped to rest their horses. Amrahil kept watch, as he was the only person present that was on duty, technically, as Legolas' guard. Emarth was going for pleasure, and Loth was going to pour over Lord Elrond's medical findings, but he was also going as an additional guard. Legolas had invited Baineth, and she had agreed to go after some convincing by her assistant. Sirya slept peacefully between Legolas and Baineth, while they whispered about the stars until daybreak.

Sirya rode with Baineth the following day, and with Emarth the day following. They made ground quickly, the weather in their favor, and the days passed in rapid succession. Before anyone realized, they were a day away from Imladris. Sirya grew quiet, as did Loth and Emarth. It was as if the wind carried away their enthusiasm. Baineth seemed to find it amusing, and Legolas followed her lead, trying not to let it distract him. She was sitting with Sirya, talking with him about Imladris. Legolas hadn't known she had been there prior, and her descriptions were enchanting.

"When you walk across the grey stone bridge, waterfalls encircle the valley, and a fountain of silver overflows with the freshest water. The air smells of lilacs and clean linen-"

Sirya lit up with every word, cradled in her arms humorously like an infant.

Emarth was fidgeting, picking at a leaf. "What bothers you?" Legolas asked quietly, Loth distracted by Baineth's story telling.

"Nothing, I'm sorry-"

"What bothers you?" Legolas asked again.

"I've never been there… as a guest."

"Does that upset you?"

Emarth shrugged, his hair veiling his face, "What if he says I'm not fit for duty?"

"You are fit for duty," Legolas assured him. "You are coming with us as a guest to relax and enjoy some time away before you return for duty. This isn't a test."

"It feels like it," Emarth murmured, his gaze trained on Loth.

"Loth is not out to hurt you," Legolas said softly.

"I know but-"

"You feel like he's watching you." Emarth nodded. "I assure you he is not. He's more worried about what Lord Elrond will think of him."

Emarth smirked, "really?"

"Yes. He wants to impress lord Elrond. He is your friend, Emarth. I have more say than he, regardless." Emarth stared at Legolas and nodded. "Also, Lord Elrond doesn't know about the ordeal with Arthon and yourself." Emarth blinked. "So unless you mention it, he does not know you are off duty for your health."

Emarth smiled, and Legolas pat his back. They soon went to sleep, Sirya between Emarth and Legolas, Loth awake to keep watch. He soon woke to a yelp, and Emarth was tearing Legolas to his feet, Sirya under his arm.

"Orcs," Emarth whispered and dragged Legolas toward a tree. He handed Sirya to Baineth and she took him, her sword drawn. Legolas pulled several arrows from his quiver, and Emarth drew his sword quietly, his back against the tree. One came around the tree and Emarth cut his throat quickly, before any noise could be made. Loth was up in a tree, and took Sirya from Baineth and retreated up into the branches with him. Five more orcs crashed into the clearing, and Legolas shot an arrow through the furthest one's temple. Emarth had two down already, his back facing Legolas in a protective stance. A larger orc advanced on him, and Legolas moved to help before he was faced with a warg. It knocked him down and was snapping at his face, his sword wedged between his jaws. Its rank breath splattered saliva on his face, and he turned his head to keep it away from its snapping teeth. It stopped and fell over limp, one of Loth's arrows in his shoulder. Emarth lay the finishing blow to the final Orc, turning and facing Legolas with a cut on his cheek.

"That was fun," Emarth chuckled, and Legolas couldn't help but smile. Sirya was handed down to Baineth, and Loth leapt from the tree. Sirya was shaking, terrified tears frozen in his eyes. Legolas took him from Baineth, and he curled up against Legolas' chest.

"You're safe." Legolas whispered.

"I wasn't worried about me, I was worried about everyone else," He explained in a quivering whisper.

"We're all safe too. We protect one another," Legolas soothed.

Sirya nodded and Legolas set him down in his bedroll. Loth was nursing Emarth's cut, his agitated murmurs flooding the camp. Emarth's eyes caught something in the distance, and he pushed Loth to the ground, where he grabbed his sword and crawled toward the nearest tree. He rushed to Legolas, his body blocking the prince from the view. Emarth turned to face the attacker, and Legolas grabbed his shoulder.

"What is it Emarth-" he asked, and Emarth raised his sword in time to block an incoming arrow, pushing Legolas behind the tree.

Emarth handed Sirya to him. "Hide."

"No, Emarth…"

"I said hide!" He cried, and turned to face the two lumbering orcs that approached. They were far larger than the average, armor covering their solid bodies. One had an oversized crossbow in hand, the other, an axe. "That's an order."

Sirya was near hysterics in Legolas' arms, and he scaled the tree to hide the child. Baineth was hefted into the tree by Amrahil before swords began clanging, Loth engaging the one with the crossbow. Legolas leaned Baineth against an oversized branch in the tree and put Sirya in her arms. Legolas leapt down, and Emarth turned from the axe wielding orc, concern and annoyance passing through his gaze. The momentary distraction allowed the Orc to land a blow on his cheek, knocking him to the ground. The orc stepped over Emarth and rose his axe to Legolas, and the initial blow knocked his arm down. Emarth stabbed him from behind, and the Orc fell with a grunt. Emarth looked back at Loth, and the crossbow of the Orc was pointed at Legolas, and Emarth stepped in front of him. His eyes widened as the arrow made impact. Amrahil ended the Orc then, cleaving his head from his body as the creature reveled in the success of hitting one of the elves. Emarth slumped against Legolas.

"No... No no no-" he cried, and Loth ran over. Emarth's breath was weak against Legolas' neck, and he held him as loth tore at his tunic.

"It's not a fatal wound…" he whispered fearfully, pulling the arrow from his shoulder.

"He's not responsive," Legolas said nervously,

"It is poisoned, of course," Loth said bitterly. He put his finger on the tip of the arrow, while Legolas slid to the ground with Emarth in his arms. "It's hyrenicithe. We use it as a muscle relaxer. This is in a higher concentration."

"What does that mean?"

"It means all his muscles will weaken incredibly, stopping his organs," Loth said, digging through his bag. "Not painful, just terrifying, and fatal." He said, and held up a bottle, "Without this."

Loth pulled out the dropper and Legolas rolled Emarth onto his back. He was hardly conscious, and Loth spilled a shaky tube of clear medicine in his mouth. Emarth licked at it, and blinked weakly.

"It's ok," Legolas said, his arms shaking.

"I need to clean the wound."

Legolas rolled Emarth toward him and loth poured the same medicine on the wound. Emarth's eyes opened and he gasped, Legolas cradling him against his ribcage so he couldn't fight it. He groaned while Loth wiped the medicine into the wound, and then bandaged it. Legolas looked at loth questionably, a limp Emarth in his arms.

"We should get going," Legolas nodded, receiving the urgency in his voice loud and clear. He handed Emarth off to him as he got on his horse. Amrahil helped Baineth and Sirya from the tree and onto her horse, Sirya frozen in shock. Once Legolas was mounted and ready, Loth and Amrahil handed Emarth back up to him. Legolas leaned his weak body against his, careful of the wound. They rode through the night, Emarth unconscious and heavy against Legolas' body. He couldn't hide his fear, and he checked Emarth every few minutes. He couldn't have been more relieved when they rode into Rivendell, the sun breaking over the horizon. Fog clouded their way, dew heavy against the grass, dampening Legolas' boots. Elrond's guards offered to take Emarth for him as they rode into the courtyard, but Legolas declined.

"I deeply appreciate your offer, but I would like to stay with him." They nodded, and Legolas started for Elrond's healing wing, adjusting his weight in his arms. Elrond came outside and saw the wilted bloody elf in Legolas' arms.

"Come."

Legolas followed and Loth skipped after them, leaving Baineth, Amrahil, and Sirya to Lindir and Erestor's attempts at civility. Elrond held the door open for Legolas, and Legolas lay Emarth on the bed. Elrond pulled his cart around.

Loth cleared his throat, his tunics covered in Emarth's blood, "he was shot by a poisoned arrow. I field treated it with lo-"

"It looks wonderful," Elrond said as he examined the wound. "You administered it orally as well?"

"Yes," Loth said, fiddling with his shirt.

"That was quick thinking on your part. I have more that I will water down and give him, but otherwise he just has to sleep the poison off."

Emarth blinked, trying to open his eyes, and Legolas stared at Elrond.

"That's all?"

"That's all. Your healer treated him and now we wait." He smiled, "where is the child?"

Sirya jumped as the door opened, and Baineth rubbed his back.

"Sirya," Legolas said and he curled against Baineth, "This is my friend, Elrond."

Sirya didn't budge, and Baineth lifted him into her arms and rose. "He's upset about Emarth."

Legolas took him from Baineth as Elrond greeted her, and he hid his face in his neck, "Emarth is perfectly fine, Sirya. He has a wound on his shoulder and he has to rest for a few days but that is all."

"That's all?"

"That's all. I promise. Loth and lord Elrond took care of him."

"It's very nice to meet you," Elrond said softly, "Legolas has spoken proudly of you for quite some time." Sirya turned to face him. "I feel we have a lot in common."

"How?" Sirya asked softly, interested.

"Come with me, I'd like to show you something, and I'll tell you."

"Can Legolas come?"

Elrond smirked, "Legolas can come."

Sirya nodded and Legolas set him down. "Take my arm here," Elrond said and placed Sirya's hand around his elbow. "It's easier for you, and for the person leading you."

Sirya nodded seriously, and Elrond smiled and tapped his hand. He led him to his library, where he put his hand on the chair. "Follow my hand to the chair," Elrond said. Sirya did, and proudly sat. "I've worked with a few blind men before," Elrond said and poured the child and Legolas a cup of tea. "And Legolas tells me you manage it exceptionally well." Sirya looked nervous, playing with the chair. "So I'd just like to offer my support, and any questions you have I will find the answer to."

"Can I see again?" He asked quickly. Elrond set his cup of tea down and opened the curtain. He knelt in front of him. He took his small face in his hands, and tilted it toward the light. His beautiful eyes were blank, and Elrond seemed to be looking for something.

"When's the last time you saw?"

"Before I fell."

"You couldn't see when you were in the ravine at all?"

Sirya shook his head, "I thought I was asleep, I didn't know I couldn't see."

Elrond tilted his head forward and felt along his neck, then his head, "What hurts?"

Legolas' eyebrows rose. He didn't have pain… he had never complained of pain...

"My head," Sirya whispered, as if it were a heavy burden finally set free "All the time."

Legolas' eyebrows hiked up his forehead, and Elrond met his eyes without surprise.

"When you fell, you hit your head on a rock, and damaged that part of your brain. It went so long without healing." Elrond said gently. "That it makes your head hurt, and so you won't see again."

Sirya nodded, holding back the tears the flooded his eyes regardless of his efforts.

"Don't be upset," Elrond said quietly, his hand on his shoulder. "I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason." Sirya sobbed and Elrond pulled him into his arms. "I know, penneth." He whispered and Legolas couldn't hide his own disappointment on the child's behalf. "There are ways to still live your life. Don't let it beat you." Sirya nodded and grabbed Legolas' tunic. Legolas embraced him, running his hand over his hair.

"I'm sorry," Sirya cried.

"Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything wrong," Legolas cried.

"I'm blind-" he sobbed, as if he finally understood.

"I know. There's nothing wrong with that. I told you lord Elrond wasn't of the valar," Legolas grinned to a regrettable Elrond.

"But I thought-"

"Well, your hope was good, but now we know your hope belongs with your future now. As a blind person."

His body wracked, and Legolas was torn apart by the child's realization. No one had been positive he would remain blind, and now someone was.

"I love you," Legolas tried as Elrond poured him a glass of tea.

"Even though I'm blind?" "Of course. You're my son."

Legolas sat with Sirya in his arms, and took the teacup from Elrond.

"Quetuvangwë sí ve nildu?" Elrond asked. (may we speak as friends now)

"Nácë," Sirya sniffled, and Legolas flinched. Sirya spoke Quenya? (hesitant yes)

"The last time I saw my father I was your age." Elrond said and Legolas was surprised. He'd known nothing of Elrond's past. "I was raised by two elves, brothers, who were the reason I was orphaned in the first place. They loved me, and I them, but I say you are far luckier than I ever could be, in finding a father."

Legolas stared at Elrond.

"Your father hated you too?" Sirya asked quietly.

"He never said either way," Elrond said softly, "But he and my mother left us for dead. Is that love?"

Sirya hiccupped and offered him a hug, which he accepted. "I hope you enjoy your time here, Sirya, and count your blessings."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please review!


	11. Painful Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond breaks some news that Legolas never wanted to hear. Sirya faces some fears.

"What are we to do today?" Sirya asked.

Legolas was combing his hair, and Sirya combed his own in haste. "Baineth and I are to talk to Lord Elrond. You are going to meet Lord Elrond's foster son, Estel."

"Lord Elrond has a foster son, too?"

Legolas smiled, "yes. He is a man, however, but only a little older than yourself in maturation."

"A man?" Sirya wondered aloud.

"Yes. He is very kind," Legolas said and tied off the braid he had just finished. "Come, they are waiting for us."

Legolas let Sirya take his arm as Elrond had taught him, and Legolas couldn't stop thinking. There was so much he didn't know about Sirya. About his pain, his languages…

They walked out into the courtyard, where breakfast was waiting for them. Baineth was already present. Elrond and Estel were seated at the small round table, and Legolas pulled out Sirya's chair for him.

"My apologies-"

"Nonsense," Elrond grinned. Legolas made Sirya's plate, and then his own.

"You have oatmeal here," Legolas said and held Sirya's small hand over the top of the plate, "fruit here, and a scone here."

Sirya nodded and picked up his spoon self consciously. He knew he was being watched.

"Goodmorning," Legolas breathed to Baineth.

"Goodmorning," Sirya echoed.

"Goodmorning," Baineth returned to them both.

Elrond cleared his throat. "Sirya, this is Estel. Estel, this is Legolas, and Baineth."

"Mae Govannen," Sirya said, blushing, as Legolas and Baineth tilted their heads toward Estel respectively.

"Mae govannen, Sirya," Estel said happily, his eyes finding Elrond's as he swung his legs.

Legolas watched Estel. He had seen few men, and he was the first child he had seen. He was roughly Sirya's age, seemingly, and seemed polite. He ate his oatmeal, watching Sirya with curious eyes.

"Estel has begun his archery lessons with Elladan," Elrond said and Estel huffed.

"Having difficulty?" Legolas asked, amused. Sirya nibbled his strawberries, oatmeal on his fingers.

"Archery is not my strong suit. I am better with the sword," Estel implored.

"Archery is important as well, it holds its own value in battle, and in hunting," Legolas said.

"He did not want me to mention it, but I assured him you had a magic touch with the bow," Elrond added, winking at Estel.

"I will help you, if you wish. If I do not help, than there are no losses."

"Alright," Estel smiled, "thank you."

They finished their breakfast, accompanied by the singing of birds and the small talk of the adults regarding politics and the change of seasons. Sirya barely touched his, to Legolas' disappointment, but he would mention it later.

They all rose to leave, and Elrond put his hand on Sirya's shoulder as the servants swept in and hurried the dirty dishes to the kitchen. "I would like to talk to Legolas for a time, about politics and such things. Would you be comfortable with going with Estel for a time?"

Legolas' hand was on his free shoulder, and he squeezed it encouragingly. Although he had been warned, Sirya didn't want to go with him. He didn't know him! what if Estel left him somewhere and he got lost? But Legolas and Baineth would be angry if he said no, and Estel would be hurt, and probably Lord Elrond, too.

"Okay," Sirya squeaked. Legolas rubbed his back and Elrond took Estel by the arm.

"Listen to me, Estel." Elrond said firmly. "This boy cannot see anything at all. Can you imagine how that must be in a strange place?" Estel nodded, desperate understanding in his eyes. "You must make him feel comfortable. You cannot leave him. If you wish to go off on your own you must bring him back to master Legolas. Do you understand?"

Estel nodded. "Yes, of course."

Elrond pat his arm with an approving nod. "Wonderful. Go have fun."

Legolas embraced Sirya, "enjoy yourself. Do not worry, I am not far off, and Estel is kind."

"Okay."

Estel took Sirya's hand, and Sirya turned toward Legolas, his body rigid. "Sirya Estel is my very good friend. He's going to take good care of you I promise." Legolas promised.

Sirya nodded and Estel squeezed his hand. "What do you wish to do?"

"I don't know," Sirya said quietly.

"Do you like to swim?"

"I've never been."

"I think you'll like it, but I think we should bring an adult." Sirya agreed, grateful. He wanted to go back to Legolas, but going back to Legolas so quickly would do nothing but annoy him. He'd trusted Sirya with Estel, and Legolas had to speak to lord Elrond. It was clear he wasn't going back to Legolas any time soon. "How about horses? Do you want to go for a ride?"

"Um, ok."

They walked to the barn, and the smell and sound of horses made Sirya's stomach clench.

"This is mine, her name is Asfeloth. She's black and white." Estel guided Sirya's hand to the horse, and he flinched away. "No, it is alright. She's very nice. Here," he said and planted an apple in Sirya's hand. Estel held Sirya's hand firmly in his, and brought it close to the horse. She gobbled it quickly from his hand, her hair tickling his hand. Sirya giggled, and Estel beamed, relieved to be pleasing his guest.

"I've never fed a horse before," Sirya said, his eyes twinkling as he wiped his hand on his pants.

Estel guided Sirya's hand to her head. The horse neighed and shook her head, her mane soft against his hand.

"Wanna ride her?" Sirya bobbed his head eagerly, and Estel planted Sirya's hand on the stall. "I have to saddle her, so just wait one moment, ok?"

Sirya danced with excitement, his free hand rubbing Asfeloth's neck, "I cannot wait!"  
\-------------------------------------------------

"The injuries he sustained would have killed a man, we all know that."

Legolas nodded, sipping his wine with a tense hand. Baineth was seated near the windowsill, her own glass in her hand.

"But that doesn't mean it hasn't had lasting damage. There's the blindness, yes, but there's a pressure on his brain that's pushing, cutting off blood flow. It causes incredible pain."

"What can be done?" Legolas asked.

Elrond sighed, his eyebrows knit together. "We have herbs that can help, but it will only help a small amount."

"There is nothing that can be done for him?" Baineth chimed in.

"There is a surgery the men do. It doesn't always work, and sometimes it is fatal."

"Fatal." Legolas repeated, downing his wine. Fatal. "Have you done it?"

"Yes, twice. Once it was successful, another it was not." He said regretfully. Elrond rubbed his temples, and sat at his desk.

"So he has to learn to live with it." Legolas said, his pulse pounding in his ears.

Elrond shook his head, his expression one of someone with terrible news. "As he grows older, his pain will increase. It may also affect his other senses."

"He could lose his hearing?" Baineth gasped.

Elrond nodded, his eyes full of sorrow. "He could."

Legolas put his glass down with shaking hands, "What do I do?"

"I cannot help you make that decision. Both could have grave consequences for the child. I would personally suggest that you wait until he is older, and let him decide for himself."

"How old? Before it becomes a serious danger?" Baineth asked, the professional in her covering the worried caretaker. She was so much better at maintaining composure, gathering the facts. She was planning, and Legolas was drowning.

"No older than 40, that's when he'll begin to finish growing," Elrond murmured.

"Elrond, I cannot do this," Legolas said, his hand over his forehead.

"You can, and you will. Being a father is impossible. You can only do your best for them."

"Why was your second surgery unsuccessful?"Legolas asked quietly.

"He was old, unable to recover," Elrond said, the subject apparently sore. Legolas nodded. "You have to get him to be honest with you. That child has far too much fear in him. That could kill him before that time comes."

Legolas groaned, "I don't know what he's afraid of. I don't know what his life has been."

Elrond leaned forward, "I must tell you, I lived through the first age, through a time of great terror, and I have never felt fear in an elf like Sirya's in my life, and that is saying something. The injuries that child had were no accident. He did not fall. That child is in survival mode, like a beaten dog. He wishes to please you, so you won't do what his father did."

Legolas stared at him, frozen Hooves clattered over the stone outside.

"Here," Elrond said and handed Legolas a satchel of green paste. "It is the herbs, for his head. Twice a day at most, no more than what you can pinch between your fingers. I've written out my recipe for Telion."

"Thank you, so much," Baineth said, and Elrond smiled sadly before he gestured for them to walk with him out to the courtyard. Estel and Sirya were on a horse, Sirya in front and holding the reigns. He was grinning, and Legolas swallowed his concern.

"Look at you," Legolas said and Sirya grinned and put out his arms.

"I was riding the horse on my own!" He was more excited than Legolas had seen prior, and he quickly stripped his mind of worry for the time being.

"I saw that!" Legolas said and lifted him off the horse. "Did you have fun?" Sirya nodded vigorously, and he threw his arms around Legolas.

"So much fun!"

Legolas put him down and brushed his hand over his head. "Let's change for dinner, and you can you tell me all about it." Sirya nodded and talked to Legolas about his horseback riding while he changed and Legolas braided his hair.

When they got to dinner, Estel suggested they go swimming the following day.

"That is a good idea, Estel." Legolas smiled.

"Yes, I am sure Elladan and Elrohir would enjoy it as well." The twins agreed happily, and Baineth nodded in agreement. Sirya sighed and ignored his stomach. He didn't want to go swimming. But Sirya wished to please Legolas and Baineth, and his new friends Estel and Elrond. He worried while the adults talked about things he didn't care to understand until dinner was finished. Legolas and Baineth visited Emarth after Sirya was in bed. There was only a single candle lit in his room, the flickering light casting shadows over his pallid face. He wasn't able to lift his head, but he was conscious.

"Legolas," he breathed and Legolas sat down with him.

"How long have you been awake?"

"Less than an hour," Emarth said quietly.

"Emarth…" Legolas sighed and rested his head on his shoulder.

"It is my job, and my privilege, to protect you," Emarth murmured.

"I have no words to thank you,"

"I do not need any."

Legolas grinned and Eut his hand on his friend's forehead. Elrond entered with a bowl of weak soup.

"I was coming to help you with dinner, but it looks like you have better company."

Emarth weakly smiled, and Elrond handed the bowl to Legolas.

"Sit behind him, Baineth, so he can rest against you," Elrond said.

Legolas cradled Emarth against him, and Emarth grunted weakly against his neck. Baineth positioned herself and Legolas leaned him against her. She placed his head against her shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his chest, tracing gentle circles. Legolas got the bowl and filled the spoon with the watered down broth. Elrond was leaning against the wall.

"Your body is weak, Emarth. Only eat what you can. It may not agree with you," Elrond warned.

Emarth blinked in understanding and Legolas spooned some broth into his mouth, which immediately dribbled back out. Legolas chuckled and Emarth didn't look amused. He looked nervous.

"It's alright," Legolas said, trying again. Legolas closed his mouth with his free hand, and after a few moments Emarth swallowed. They continued the pattern until the bowl was nearly half empty, and Emarth coughed. His body shook and heaved, and Baineth sat up to align his head. Emarth coughed and gagged, the broth and bile dribbling down his chin. He inhaled sharply, and his eyes were wide with panic. Elrond put a towel in front of his mouth, and Emarth gagged again and again until his body was far too tired and he lay against Baineth gasping for breath. She hummed and rocked slowly, calming him.

"Legolas," he whispered, tears in his voice. His dark hair had broth dripping down it, and Legolas wiped t with the towel, shaking his head.

"It will get better," Legolas said, and Elrond put his hand on Emarth's chest.

"This is temporary. This time next week you will be your old self again. It is a poison that weakens your muscles, that is all."

Emarth nodded, and Legolas helped him lie down. "rest, mellon nin. We will return in the morning."

Early the next day Legolas woke Sirya. "Put these on," He said and handed Sirya a set of clothes. "I've packed us lunch, we're going swimming with lord Elrond and his children."

"Including Estel?"

"Yes."

Sirya put the clothes on and Legolas took his hand, "Legolas, I can't swim."

"Its alright," Legolas said and lead him out to the river. The sound of splashing water made Sirya whimper.

"Sirya," Lord Elrond greeted, "Estel is in the water. Why don't you join him?"

Sirya gripped Legolas' hand and whimpered, and Legolas lead him to the water. "It doesn't bite." He grinned and he went in up to his ankles.

"Hello Sirya," Estel greeted. He was entirely soaked, Elrohir wrestling with him in the water.

"Hello," Sirya murmured, hiding behind Legolas' leg.

"Sirya can't swim, so make sure you stay where he can touch the ground," Legolas said.

Estel nodded seriously. Legolas gave Estel Sirya's hand, and Sirya tensed, and grabbed Legolas' shirt.

"I'm so very close to you that if you need me I'll be here before you can even call for me. Don't be afraid."

"Okay."

Legolas walked back toward the fire pit that Elrond and Baineth were sitting next to. Sirya was shaking, and Estel tried to pull him deeper into the water.

"It is not deep, I promise," Estel implored. Sirya could hear Legolas talking and laughing with Lord Elrond and Baineth, and wished for nothing more than to join them. The water was cold, and Sirya shivered and huddled.

"Master Legolas!" Estel called.

"No-" Sirya whined and he cowered as Legolas' footsteps approached.

"Why aren't you having fun, huh?" Legolas asked gently. Sirya stumbled for Legolas' hand. "Come." Legolas said and lifted him into his arms. He got in up to his waist and Sirya clung to his tunic. Elrohir watched, a smirk on his lips.

"Relax, I'm not letting you go." Legolas whispered.

Sirya loosened his grip and Legolas lowered him into the water more. The waves lapped at Sirya's shoulders, and he held onto Legolas' shirt.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" Legolas asked, dancing in the water.

Sirya nodded hesitantly, his teeth chattering.

"I will not allow anything bad happen to you. You know that right?"

Sirya nodded, and Legolas leaned him back slowly.

"Don't be afraid," Legolas murmured. The water surrounded his head and he was floating, Legolas' hand under his back. Sirya smiled, and Legolas laughed. the water pulled He tried to sit up and Legolas caught him in his arms, holding him to his chest. "Panic is the enemy." Legolas said quietly.

"Panic will never be there to help you."

Sirya felt comfortable going to Estel after a time, and was soon under the crisp water going under and splashing around. Legolas watched, and couldn't help but think about what Elrond had told him. He had called Sirya a beaten dog. He pictured Herenvarno training him, breaking him like a horse. Throwing him into the ravine, wiping his hands and leaving him to suffer and die.

"Legolas?" Baineth whispered.

It was growing dark, and the twins, Sirya, and Estel came toward the fire. Elrond handed them all towels, and they sat by the shore together.

"Sirya," Legolas called, and tension crept into the easiness of the night.

Sirya rose and followed his voice, Legolas catching his arm.

"Lord Elrond gave me medicine for you. For the pain."

Sirya nodded, fear hiding in his eyes. Water dripped onto Legolas' hand.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Legolas asked softly. "Why did you pretend?"

"I didn't want to complain-"

"Coming to me about something, anything, isn't complaining. I want to protect you, to take care of you. It's hard for me to help you if I don't know something is going on."

"I'm sorry." Sirya whispered.

"Don't be. You have not done anything to be sorry about. I just wish for you to be honest with me, to come to me when you need me."

Sirya nodded and Legolas kissed his cheeks repeatedly, making him giggle.

"I love you, penneth. Don't be afraid of anything when it comes to me."

Sirya nodded and Legolas cupped his cheeks. "Does your head hurt now?"

Sirya nodded.

"Badly?"

He nodded again, "real bad."

"Where?"

Sirya touched his forehead with his hand, and tears sprung into his eyes. "Am I going to die?"

"No," Legolas said quietly, running his hand gently through Sirya's hair. "No you're not going to die meleth nin."

He wiped the tears from his eyes and he took a pinch of the herb paste, "open."

Sirya did and Legolas put it in his mouth. Sirya's face screwed up and he tried to spit it out, "No. Swallow it sirya," Legolas whispered firmly.

Elrond handed him a glass of water and Legolas gave it to Sirya. Sirya swallowed it with a groan and shook his head.

"That will help," Legolas said.

Sirya nodded, and Legolas kissed the top of his head, "We'll talk about it more when we go home."

"Okay," Sirya said quietly. He threw his arms around Legolas' neck, and he embraced him, his tunic growing damp.

"When I say I love you, I mean it. I love you means I'll do anything I can to make you happy, to help you. It means I'll never hurt you."

Sirya huddled against Legolas, and stayed in his arms for a few minutes before returning to the shore with Estel. Legolas felt better, and Elrond smiled supportively. Baineth put her head on Legolas' shoulder, and he stroked her cheek with his hand. They could do this, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, please review! I love them ;) Sorry for the wait, I've had it written forever, it was sitting down and tweaking that I couldn't seem to find time for!


	12. Unwound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirya and Legolas continue to get to know one another, as well as their friends in Rivendell. Emarth continues to heal.

Estel shifted nervously as Legolas came down the hill with Elladan and Elrohir in tow. Legolas' hair was braided tightly against his head in the way of the archers of Mirkwood. His quiver was at his back, and his bow was in hand. Elladan and Elrohir were dressed similarly in their hunting gear, matching smirks on their faces.

"Mae govannen," Legolas called, his bow twirled in hand.

"Mae govannen," Estel responded, shifting with his gaze fixed on the ground. His dark hair was swept into his face by a sudden breeze.

"How is your archery going?"

"Um, alright," Estel whispered with a shrug.

Legolas smiled, and Elladan murmured something to Elrohir. Legolas looked up, and Sirya came down the hill in Baineth's arms.

"I'll practice with you, if you would like," Legolas offered, the breeze blowing his light hair toward Estel. Sirya and Baineth sat under a tree, and Baineth cut an apple for him with her knife.

"Alright," Estel said and Legolas pulled an arrow from his quiver. He strung it and shot it without aim, plunging it into the target, directly in the center.

"You too, I'm not the only one practicing," Legolas grinned.

Estel nodded and strung his bow with sweat at his brow. He released and missed, sending it into the ground. He immediately strung and shot another with reddened cheeks, and it passed the target. Legolas shot the target again, slipping it neatly next to the other, sharing the same impact point. He aimed a third, looking at Estel while he released, and sent it plunging between the other two. Estel, looked equally aggravated and embarrassed, and Legolas knelt so he was his height.

"Bend your bow," Legolas said quietly. Estel did, watching Legolas' face for approval. "Look exactly where you wish for the arrow to go." Estel found the target and stared at it with firm resolve. Legolas put his hand under Estel's elbow. "There's no rushing, there is only accuracy. Speed comes later. Take as long as you need, and when you feel within that you are ready to, release. You cannot dread missing. Missing is not failure."

Estel nodded, and Legolas adjusted his hold on the bow. He stood and backed up, and Estel was staring at the target, concentration stark on his brow. Elrohir watched, his arms crossed. Estel released, the arrow singing into the edge of the target. Estel grinned and turned around proudly, and Legolas clapped.

"Well done! You shall be my prodigy in no time," Legolas applauded.

"It wasn't in the center."

"It does not have to be. With practice, it will get closer and closer until it is in the center."

Estel grinned and turned to Elrohir. "Did I do well?"

"That was magnificent," Elrohir grinned. Elladan nodded in agreement beside him.

"Who is a better shot? You or Legolas?" Estel asked Elrohir.

"Oh. Legolas," Elrohir laughed, "Every time."

Legolas laughed, and Sirya was whispering to Baineth in her lap, picking at the apple slice in his hand. Legolas tiptoed over and snatched a piece of apple from his grasp. Sirya feigned a smile, and Legolas put it back.

"What's wrong?" Legolas asked.

Sirya shook his head, and Baineth rubbed his shoulder.

"What did we talk about? It is important to me."

Sirya sighed, "I... I cannot shoot like you. You cannot teach me."

Legolas dismissed the statement with a grunt, "That is not important, meleth nin. There are as many things we can do together as there are stars in the sky. Archery is but one that you cannot do, alas, but the things you can greatly outweigh that small fact. And as you can tell, archery is quite stressful to learn."

Sirya smiled and Legolas took the apple slice back again and ate it, "Cheer up, meleth nin, and be happy your Daeradar isn't trying to train you. He's quite a cruel teacher."

Sirya smiled and Legolas lifted him into his arms and put him on his shoulders. Sirya squealed, and Legolas strung his bow.

"Apply the blindfold," Legolas laughed. Elladan put the blindfold around Legolas' eyes, and he strung his bow. He took a deep breath and released, and his arrow split the center arrow on the target.

"Wow!" Estel smiled and flashed his toothless grin.

Sirya giggled and Legolas hopped around, his arms holding his small thighs firmly to prevent a less than exciting accident.

"We must hide from Baineth and her evildoing accomplices." He said and Sirya nodded with a hop.

"Evildoing?" Elladan laughed, and Legolas put Sirya down.

"Come, they are after us!"

Sirya squealed and pulled Legolas toward the forest. Legolas took his hand and they dashed toward the woods, making a beeline for the thickest density of trees. Legolas could hear Elladan and Elrohir's feet slamming after them, and Sirya giggled hysterically.

Legolas rounded a large tree and began to weave between them, trying to lose the twins, Baineth, and Estel in the forest. Legolas tripped over a root and stumbled, Sirya pulling him violently. Legolas regained his footing and tugged Sirya around a tree, where Baineth made it around the trunk at the same time, grabbing Sirya by the arm.

"I've caught you!" She laughed, knocking him playfully to the ground and tickling him without any sign of mercy.

"I shall save you!" Legolas roared and pushed Baineth, tickling her instead. She squirmed and cried out for Elladan and Elrohir, and Sirya tackled her, giggling.

Elladan swooped in and picked up Sirya, running away from the scene with Sirya over his shoulder. He screamed and kicked, and Estel tackled Elladan and he caught him in his free arm.

"How dare you! Traitor!" Elladan cried and tossed Estel to the ground.

Once Legolas and Baineth made it to the top of the hill, Elladan stood with Sirya over his shoulder and Estel over the other.

"I believe I have won," Elladan announced and the boys giggled in his arms.

"Perhaps this time, but this one is mine for now. You can have him later," Legolas said and took Sirya from his arms.

"What about this one?" Elladan asked and shook Estel.

"That one you can have," Legolas laughed and both boys cried out.

"Alright, I will have to torture him for information," Elladan said and Elrohir tickled him. Estel laughed, and Legolas set Sirya down.

"Have fun. We are to go visit Emarth."

Sirya cheered and Legolas took his hand. Baineth took Sirya's other hand. They walked through the tall grass, the flowers tickling their skin in the gentle breeze. Once they arrived in the healing wing, Emarth was sitting up and drinking tea.

"Sirya, Prince Legolas, and Baineth," Emarth smiled, the skin under his eyes nearly as dark as the hair on his head.

"Emarth," Sirya grinned, and Legolas released his hand. Sirya found Emarth's hand, and Emarth tried to help him on the bed. But his arms were weak and shaking with the mere effort of holding a tea cup, and Legolas helped Sirya instead.

"Are you feeling better?" Sirya asked.

"Yes, soon I will be well enough to play with you once again. Emarth's hair was knotted and falling into his face. Legolas took the brush off of the bureau and sat beside him.

He brushed his hair silently, and Emarth looked back, gratitude evident in his pained face. Sirya made himself a nest on the side of the bed, stroking the silk blankets and talking to Emarth about his day. Once Legolas had brushed the tangles out of Emarth's hair, he weaved it softly into a comfortable braid Legolas always enjoyed when he was not well.

"Thank you," Emarth murmured.

"Of course, mellon nin," Legolas grinned and rubbed his shoulder.

"Luin was here earlier, he has been fawning over Lord Elrond," Emarth chuckled, his eyes drifting shut.

"Let's leave Emarth to rest, Sirya," Baineth said and took Sirya's hand.

"Goodnight, Emarth," Sirya said.

"Goodnight, Sirya."

Baineth and Sirya left, and Emarth handed his teacup shakily to Legolas.

"I am so tired. Everything exhausts me…"

"Lord Elrond promises it will improve," Legolas ensured him. "Already you are doing far better than you were several days ago.

"I…" He trailed off, his eyes fluttering closed. Legolas cradled his friend's head in his hands, and lay him down on the pillow. He pulled the blankets around him, and brushed a few stray hairs from his face. Legolas left him to rest, returning the teacup to the kitchen. He put Sirya to bed, and invited Baineth on a walk with him.

"I've missed being here," Baineth said, watching the moon cast shapes over the clouds.

"When were you here?" Legolas asked, his bare feet skimming the dewy grass.

"I lived here for a time after Eregion fell." She said, and Legolas stared at her.

"How old were you then?"

She searched his face. "230, give or take a few years."

"You, you're..." He looked at the ground.

She was twice his age.

"You didn't know?" She asked, trying to hide her concern.

"No, I didn't," Legolas said quietly.

"Does it, bother you?"

"No," He said quietly, "does it bother you?"

"No," She said, "I knew your age prior to accepting your advances.

"Eregion. Wow."

She smirked, her hair braided intricately behind her ear. He ran his hand over the side of her face, her eyes fluttering closed. "It was a nice place, don't sound so judgmental."

He laughed and pushed her playfully. His parents were only a century or so older than she. "I am happy you came to Mirkwood."

"Me too." She smiled, and he took her hand.

The walked along the Bruinen, and he put a flower behind her ear. They stayed out far past Sirya's bedtime, and lay in the grass watching the fireflies. It was nearly time to return to Mirkwood, and Legolas found his heart fearful of the notion. Emarth would be well soon, and they would extend their trip by several weeks to allow for his vacation to be more pleasant before traveling again. Elrond understood Sirya, as did Estel, and they were helping to ease him from his shell. But Baineth… Each day she grew to hold more of his heart, and it terrified him. She had so much experience, so much time and wisdom… what could she possibly see in him? With time, she would see his novice ideas as unamusing, and find a more suitable partner, he was sure. He touched her braid, and she smiled and put her hand over his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Sorry for the delay, college really dampens my free writing time! Please review! Thanks so much for all the support and reviews thusfar! I will try to update sooner next time!


	13. Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group leaves Rivendell to return home, but what will they find when they arrive?

"It's been wonderful seeing you, Sirya. I look forward to seeing you again soon" Elrond said merrily, his hand on Sirya's small shoulder.

Sirya smiled proudly, and Legolas braced Elrond's wrist with a grateful squeeze.

"Thank you. For everything."

"Wish Thranduil well for me," Elrond inclined his head.

"Of course," Legolas said with a nod, his quiver clanking with the sharp movement.

Elrond's hair was braided intricately from his chiseled cheekbones, allowing the shadow from the growing sun to follow the elegant curve of his features. Elrond looked at Baineth, and Legolas realized she was only a little younger than Elrond. Than Legolas' father. His stomach clenched.

"It was good to see you again, Baineth, as always," Elrond said graciously.

Baineth nodded, "you as well, Elrond."

Legolas felt a pinch of embarrassment. They'd known one another since before he has been born. They'd done and seen things he'd only heard in his father's stories. He turned to watch Sirya saying goodbye to Estel, and grinned.

"You will meet again soon, penneth," Legolas said and threw his bag over his horses back. He helped Emarth up and onto his horse. Emarth was still pallid and tired but had time when he returned to rest further. They said goodbye to Elladan and Elrohir, and Elrond gave Loth a full supply of medicine for Emarth for if he fell ill on the road. Legolas helped Sirya up onto his horse and climbed on after him.

They rode, and for a time Legolas watched Rivendell sink into the distance, leaving behind the peace he had come to take for granted. He would return home, to responsibility and to the worries of caring for Sirya, and protecting his land from the ever-growing shadow.

Sirya was playing with Legolas' hair, his head tilted toward the sky and pressed into Legolas' breastbone for stability. Legolas kept his hand planted on Sirya's chest, his bony figure squirming with each step the horse took. He was chattering about his fun with Estel to Emarth, who was listening on the horse next to them. Legolas grinned and rubbed his chest, kissing his forehead.

"Adar-" Sirya slapped his hand over his mouth. Emarth watched Legolas, his eyes wide. Legolas' eyebrows were hiked high on his head, and Baineth's smile was in his peripheral vision.

"You can call me Adar, if you would like, Sirya. But you do not have to if you do not wish to," Legolas guaranteed him.

"It- it just slipped-" Sirya stuttered, his face red.

"Do you want to call me Adar? Or was it a mistake? There is not a bad answer," Legolas said quietly, his hand on his shoulder.

"I... You are my Adar..."

"And you are my son."

"Adar," Sirya whispered, testing it on his tongue. He put his hand over his mouth suddenly fearful, as if he had broken a promise. Told a silent secret.

"What about my real Adar?" he questioned with a nervous brow.

"Herenvarno? He is in prison, Sirya," Legolas muttered.

"So he won't be angry?"

"No. Do not worry about him."

Sirya smiled, and hopped happily, "Adar?" He tried shakily.

"Yes, ion nin?" Legolas responded, emotion in his voice. Sirya smiled, and Legolas wrapped his arm around him, tears misting his eyes.

"I love you," Sirya whispered.

"I love you," Legolas responded, and watched the pattern of the leaves for a time before Sirya pulled Legolas' ear down to his mouth.

"If you are my Adar, can I call Baineth my Naneth?"

"If you wish to. I think she would be very happy with that."

Sirya looked worried, and Legolas was worried himself. What if she didn't see this coming? Hurt him accidentally?

"Baineth loves you, meleth nin," Legolas assured him, and himself.

"I'm afraid."

"Don't be. It will make her happy."

Once they stopped for the night, Legolas helped Sirya off their horse and released him in Baineth's general direction, where she waited with open arms. He then helped Emarth off of his. Legolas put his hands on Emarth's hips. His skin was cold and damp, his body shaking. He turned toward Legolas stiffly, dark circles under his eyes.

"Alright," Legolas whispered, not wanting to alarm Emarth or Sirya. "Let's get you into a bedroll."

Legolas met Loth's eyes and he read their alarm immediately, rolling out a bedroll and opening his medical bag. Legolas lay him down, pulling off his boots and pulling the blanket up around him.

"I'm alright Legolas," Emarth shivered, his teeth chattering.

"You're not looking so good, mellon nin" Loth said, pulling the stopper from a bottle Elrond gave him, "so try to rest."

Emarth drank from the dropper offered to him, and Legolas brushed moist hair from his face, his thumb running along his cheek. What if he died? Loth put a pillow under his head and touched Emarth's forehead.

"Are you cold?" Loth asked him softly.

Emarth nodded, his mouth parted in a soundless struggle for air. Loth nodded to Legolas, who swiftly pulled him into his embrace. He rubbed his arms and back, the cold breeze blowing at his back and pushing Legolas' hair into Emarth's face. Emarth shivered, his hands holding onto Legolas' shirt.

"Soon we will be home, and you can sleep for a week," Legolas promised, rubbing his back.

"It's hard..." Emarth shivered.

"What is?"

"Moving..." Loth met Legolas' concerned glance with an unsurprised shrug. He knew.

"It'll get better," Legolas swore and Loth nodded with approval as he went through his bag. "The poison must leave your body, and that takes time," Legolas said, quoting Elrond.

Soon Emarth was asleep in his arms, and Legolas put his blanket over Emarth in addition to Loth's.

"He's going to be fine," Loth said to Legolas, "It is simply not working its way out as fast as we had hoped. But it will."

"The fever..."

"It is exhaustion," Loth sighed.

"He didn't say anything this entire time. I assumed he was feeling alright, he looked fine, he was talking and laughing. Until we stopped."

"He was pretending," Loth shrugged, "These damn warriors and their stubborn ways."

"I will make him ride with me tomorrow."

In the morning, that's what Legolas did. Emarth looked far better, but Legolas kept his blanket around his shoulders and helped him onto his own horse.

"I'm fine-"

"No. You are not. Please, Emarth. No games today."

Emarth nodded reluctantly, his gaze finding his feet. Legolas got on behind him, and could barely see over Emarth's shoulders. Emarth grew tired with cruel swiftness and leaned back on Legolas.

"Go to sleep," Legolas insisted, and Emarth did with little protest, his head resting on Legolas' shoulder.

"Is Emarth alright, nana?"

Legolas' head flew back to Baineth and Sirya, and Baineth shrugged. They must have talked about it while Legolas dealt with Emarth the previous night. Apparently, it went well, and he was relieved, and it was none of his business how Sirya went about it. That was between them.

"Yes my beloved, he is weak, but he will be better in no time," She responded.

That night they stopped and Emarth had been unconscious the entire day. Sirya slept that night with Loth, and Legolas sat with Baineth on watch.

"I hope it's alright that Sirya calls me Naneth. I felt it was ok at the time-"

"It's perfectly alright," Legolas said.

"Have I done anything to upset you?" She asked, putting hair behind her ear.

"No," he lied, not ready to speak to her, "I am worried, and simply anxious to get home."

She nodded in defeat and returned to her bedroll. His heart pound.

He was losing her.

The next few days Baineth didn't speak to him, and Legolas focused on Sirya and Emarth. They arrived home with little celebration, except that of Thranduil at the sight of his family.

"Look at you!" Thranduil cried, sweeping Sirya off the stones Legolas had just set him down on. "You've grown a foot!"

"No, I haven't!" He giggled, embracing his grandfather.

Legolas had Emarth in his arms, and Thranduil's mouth fell open.

"He's alright," Legolas said and Emarth blinked at Thranduil.

"Hir Vuin," Emarth greeted, and Legolas set him down for a moment to regain strength in his arm. He held onto Legolas' shoulder, his body shaking with effort. His head lolled back, and he quickly lost strength in his knees.

"Captain Emarth," Thranduil said, "I'll be sure to visit you later today," He said and Emarth nodded with understanding.

Sirya was present.

"Come," Legolas said and swept Emarth off of his feet, cradling him. Legolas' cloak swept behind him billowing in the breeze, Emarth's own tethered in Legolas' hand.

Legolas was so elegant, forceful. Emarth tried to lift his arm, but it quivered and wilted beneath him, betraying him. He reminded himself it would pass, he would heal and be strong again. Again able to lift a tree limb well over his head and to snap a spear in his hands. Emarth had always been stocky, muscular and stronger than the others. That is what caught the King's attention when he graduated. But now his lifeless body was being carried by the prince he swore to protect.

How punishing fate could be.

Legolas lay him in a bed in the healing wing, and he couldn't hide his disapproval. He was tired of the healers.

"Stay for a few days, then I will take you home with me. You can rest there," Legolas bargained.

"Legolas," Emarth breathed.

Legolas took the comb off of the bureau and combed it through Emarth's shining hair.

"Shall we see what Telion has to say before you begin to panic?"

Emarth smirked at his tone, and Legolas laughed with a lopsided smile. Telion entered, and nodded to them both.

"It's nice to see you again. Let's take a look at you."

Loth was leaning in the doorframe. They stripped Emarth to his skin, examining every inch of him and testing every muscle. Telion dressed him in the healing wing's notorious gown, and talked to Loth in the hall for a time. Once they returned, Telion's tension worked its way into Legolas' stomach.

"Given the poison," Telion said with a grimace, "I've never really seen anyone survive it, and you have," He cleared his throat, "It sears parts of the muscle, weakening them. Your muscles are incredibly weak, Emarth. Potentially beyond repair."

"Are you saying I'm stuck like this?" Emarth murmured, trying to remain calm.

"Not necessarily, but Loth reports little muscle tone replacement since your time in Rivendell, and there is only so much Lord Elrond's supplement can do."

"So you may not improve much more. This could be all," Loth added quietly.

Emarth stared at Loth, his face expressionless.

"If you could leave us," Legolas said and they agreed mercifully, closing the door behind them.

"Legolas-" Emarth broke, turning toward him.

"Emarth, it's alright-"

"I can't stay like this!" He cried, climbing from the bed.

He fell to the floor with a sickening slap, and forced himself onto his feet, stumbling for the door. Legolas caught him in his arms, his head falling back and letting out an earth-shattering scream. Legolas pulled him against his chest, cradling his head.

"Listen to me!" Legolas cried, holding his quaking form against him. "It's a possibility it will pass, keep taking Elrond's medicine, and do what he told you to do. It may pass."

"What if it doesn't?" He sobbed, choking on his saliva.

"If it doesn't you're going to live with me."

"I don't want to be dependent on you! I do not want to be dependent on anyone!" He sobbed, and Legolas wiped saliva from his cheek.

"You already live with me. Having me help you with a few tasks is not dependence. What do you say to Sirya all the time? Everyone has a place in this world. We will find you another job, equally as important. This is not your end, Emarth. "

Legolas lifted him into his arms and wrapped the blanket around him. He carried him out into the hall, and into the royal wing. His body hung between Legolas' arms, a vision of frailty and defeat. The blanket dragged between Legolas' legs. The guards avoided his gaze as Legolas passed with him in his arms, his hair sweeping the ground from his head which hung at a dramatic angle from Legolas' wrist.

Legolas opened the door to his own suite and set Emarth down in his bed.

"Legolas-" he choked, and Legolas pulled the blankets around him.

"Hush."

He pulled the supplements from his bag, and helped Emarth drink.

"Now get some sleep. Sleep will help your body and your mind. We will deal with this together."

Baineth was there in the morning, Sirya with Thranduil for the day. She helped Emarth have some oatmeal, and they dressed him and took him outside. Legolas helped him try to walk, and together they enjoyed the autumn's beauty. Legolas admired Baineth's way with him, trying to encourage him to have confidence in his own worth.

"You have a wonderful way with Sirya," She told him. He was leaned against her, and she against a tree while Legolas made a fire.

"It is nothing-"

"That's not true," She said, and placed a flower behind his ear. "You are so very special to him. You've touched that child in a way that we cannot."

Emarth smiled softly, and she stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"Give me your hand," She said with painful gentility.

"I cannot," he said without trying, looking away.

"Just try. It's ok," She assured, running her hand through his hair.

His arm shook, and his hand made it halfway to her before she caught it. He laughed, surprised with himself.

"You cannot say that you can't. You can, and you'll grow stronger."

Legolas helped bring Emarth back to the suite, Legolas' servants attending to him. Baineth stayed with him, while Legolas went to the military academy to check in on Arthon.

"How is he doing?" Legolas asked Captain Salios, the dean of the school. They were watching Arthon assist the young warriors in a problem-solving task.

"He's quiet. He never speaks unless he has to, but he takes it seriously," Salios said, his deep voice gravelly in attempted whisper.

"That's all I hoped for," Legolas said.

"He had promise, and perhaps with time he can regain his honor."

Arthon was aware of Legolas' presence, but wouldn't turn to meet his gaze. "He seems to be without anger, regarding his current arrangements," Salios said as he watched.

"That is good. He seems somber, however."

"He is. Guilt, shame, they've beaten him. We do not even know where he lives."

"He doesn't live with his parents any longer?"

"No. They've kicked him out."

Legolas grunted and approached Arthon, who tensed and took a step back at his approach.

"May I speak to you?" Legolas asked, and Arthon glanced at his captain, nodding. He followed him to the corner of the room, where no one could hear their conversation.

"Why did you not come to me when your parents made you leave?"

Arthon stared at him. "My lord, I do not deserve your charity."

"It is not charity. I do not hate you, Arthon. I still wish for you to succeed, but the right way."

Arthon stared at the ground, and shrugged, "I am alright, my lord How is Emarth?"

Legolas sighed, "Emarth got shot, Arthon. With poison. The poison ruins the muscles, and Emarth cannot seem to repair his."

Arthon's hand was over his mouth, his eyes wide. "He is bedridden?"

"Yes. He will not walk again, Telion says."

"By the valar," he breathed, "He cannot catch a break," He whispered guiltily.

"Seemingly no," Legolas said, and put his hand on Arthon's shoulder. "You are not beyond forgiveness. Do not be a stranger. I have not cast you from my heart." Arthon nodded, tears in his eyes. "Stay strong, make decisions you can believe in. All will pass."

"Thank you. I never meant for this to occur."

"I know that. Learn while you are here."

Legolas returned home and Thranduil was playing with Sirya and his horses.

"Ada!" Sirya cried and launched himself into Legolas' arms.

Thranduil stood, amusement on his face, and Legolas kissed his father's cheek.

"Did you know how old Baineth is?" Legolas asked in westron so Sirya wouldn't understand.

"Yes," Thranduil asked and quirked his head. "I thought you did as well."

"No, I didn't know she was nearly your age."

Thranduil laughed, "Legolas, she's half my age."

"She's still closer to your age than to mine," Legolas defended.

"Barely," Thranduil laughed.

"She's closer to Elrond's age, rather," Legolas contested, and Thranduil continued to laugh. Sirya smiled despite himself.

"Why is this funny?"

"Why is it bothering you? I'm quite older than your mother, we are not men, Legolas, age does not matter."

"I feel I will be undesirable to her when she sees my naivety," Legolas said sharply.

"You are inexperienced, but not naive. She knows that. She respects you and admires you, and that is what matters. She does not see you as a child, and you should not either. Have faith in your worth."

Legolas nodded, tamed by his father's words. He was right, as always. "You should probably go see Emarth. He would be happy to see you."

Thranduil nodded. "Let's go now, I've been wishing to speak to him."

They walked over to Legolas' room, and Emarth was seated leaned against Baineth, where she was reading aloud to him.

"Hey," She smiled and dog-eared the page.

"Hir vuin," Emarth greeted and tried to sit up.

"Do not strain yourself on my behalf," Thranduil insisted, "I wished to speak to you."

Emarth watched him with curiosity in his tired eyes. Thranduil sat on the bed and took his arm in his hand and massaged it.

"When I was a little younger than you, my home was attacked, several times, but on one occasion we were attacked by orcs. I was shot in the hip," Thranduil said and put his finger on it. "I, too, lost my muscular strength. Same as you."

Emarth watched him, hopeful tears in his eyes.

"It was common, then, and many were inflicted with this poison. It took me longer than others to recover because I had more muscle to recover, and more poison to purge. You will get better. Do not fret."

"Telion-"

"Telion was not there, in Menegroth. He didn't see."

Emarth shook his head tears pouring down his cheeks.

"So do not be afraid. In time you will make a full recovery, and you will be bending a bow in the face of the enemy again as I did."

"Thank you," Emarth cried, and Thranduil embraced him.

"Be patient with yourself, and ask for help. When you are well again I want a rematch on that duel we had."

Emarth laughed, "of course sir."

Sirya crawled over and found Emarth's hand and put a pony in it. "He made me feel better when I was not well."

Emarth grinned. "Thank you," he said and twirled it in his fingers weakly, remembering his gifts, his value. He would walk again for this family. His family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please review. Things begin to go down next chapter, which should be up soon, so enjoy the peace while it lasts!


	14. Back Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast forward approximately twenty years. Sirya is coming into to his own, but not without obstacles.

In time Emarth grew strong again, and was soon breaking spears and bows under his hold. He remained a vital part of Sirya's youth. Baineth and Legolas grew closer in the coming years, so close that outsiders believed them married. Sirya grew tall and lithe, a willowy, elegant image of Noldorin royalty. His hair was black silk, long and straight like his grandfather's silver counterpart. His icy blue eyes were captivating, similar to Legolas and Thranduil, making them seem almost related to those who didn't know. His independent nature had him walking around the palace on his own. He began classes at the military school in history and writing, learning to fight with his words rather than weapons. War grew closer now that Sauron had been discovered again, and Dol Guldur continued to claim lives of elves from both Mirkwood and Lothlorien. Arthon remained teaching at the school, and all was going well, and was quiet, for many years.

Until one Wednesday morning.

It was a Wednesday in late spring, when dew still clung to flowers late to bloom. The stickiness of summer cloaked the kingdom, the sun beating orange through the mist. It was a time that the soldiers would tie their hair back and lounge lazily on rocks by the river, sparring during their breaks. Thranduil's crown was dipped in silver and cherry blossoms rested between branches.

Legolas sat at breakfast with Baineth and Sirya in the garden, the sun rising over the apple trees. Sirya ate his oatmeal, his inky locks sweeping over his ears and held back by two diamond pins. He wore his circlet, its silver delicately woven into his hair. The breeze caressed his hair, the sun glimmering red over the locks that curled around his elbows. He wore deep blue silks and black robes, as he commonly did, and listened to his parents' conversation in interested silence. They spoke of books, different lands, and work that had to be done. As always, it captivated him.

"Hir nin," Amrahil said and stalked into the garden, his cloak billowing behind him. He had a scroll in his hand.

"This came for you, urgently."

Legolas took it and unraveled it, Haldir's hurried script within.

"Prince Legolas, it is with my deepest regret and concern that I write to you of the disappearance of the prisoner Herenvarno. After strangling the guard that entered to feed him, he snapped the necks of two others upon his escape. The patrol searched for hours with little leads as to his direction or location, although I believe you know what I suspect. We continue to search for signs, alert us to anything we may do to assist otherwise.

Marchwarden of the Galadhrim, Haldir."

Legolas looked up at Baineth, and Sirya stopped eating, sensing Legolas' dismay.

"What is it?" Baineth asked, a forced calm in her voice.

Legolas glanced at Sirya, and considered keeping it from him. He knew it would trouble him, but he was nearly grown, he deserved to know.

"Herenvarno has escaped."

Sirya flinched, dropping his spoon.

"They haven't caught him?" Baineth asked, her voice far more composed that her expression.

"No, they cannot find him," Legolas explained, his tone equally tranquil, "they believe him on his way here."

Sirya was breathing heavily, "why? Why must he come here now?" He coughed.

"He won't breach the perimeter, Sirya, don't worry." Legolas tried to assure him. "Regardless, this letter is a week old. I'd like to keep you in the royal wing until he is found. I'll send out a task force to search for him."

Sirya remained silent, and Baineth touched his hand, worry carved on her brow.

Legolas was up that night discussing it with his finest trackers and captains, Emarth and Amrahil present. He told them all he could of his appearance, his attitude, and his accent. They understood the target, and had a well-planned map of places to search. They would wear their hunting garb, which covered their faces and hid them from the eye. While they were talking in Thranduil's office, Sirya allowed himself in. Legolas excused himself and rose, redirecting him back out into the hall, his arm around his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" Legolas asked.

"My- father-" he stumbled. Legolas could feel the strain, the tension in Sirya's shoulders. His mind was jumbled, his thoughts tainted and darkened by fear.

"We're going to catch him, meleth nin. It would be impossible for him to pass the border, we are ready for him."

"I am afraid, what if he finds me again?"

"He will not. I am going to protect you, Sirya. I would die to protect you. Do you understand that?"

Sirya nodded, his eyes worried.

"It's my job to protect you. Trust in me."

"Adar?" Sirya squeaked.

"Yes?"

"Is Nana in danger?"

"Why do you say that?" Legolas asked, his heart in his throat.

"Because she works outside of the border. She's the first he'd meet, and it's an orphanage-"

Legolas' stomach dropped. Sirya was right.

"I hadn't thought of that. I'll move them inside the palace for now, she'll be safe."

Sirya nodded, and Legolas sat down on the couch with him.

"I left all of my writing at school," Sirya said.

"Leave it for now-"

"Someone will touch it," Sirya's fingers were knit together with worry.

"Go with someone, at least. A guard," Legolas compromised reluctantly.

Sirya nodded in agreement, and Legolas ran his hand through his hair.

"I love you Adar."

"I love you, now go get some rest, and let your Adar do the worrying."

Sirya did, and so did Legolas. Legolas was up the entire night with Emarth, going over every possible way Herenvarno could enter, realistic or not. Baineth assisted with the organization of guard rotation for the Royal wing, moving the Royal Elite Guard from the throne room to the Royal Wing. Legolas would normally consider it an overkill, but this was his son.

The following morning the orders were executed, and the task force was sent to search for the fugitive. Sirya was pulled from school temporarily, and Baineth and the orphans relocated closer to the palace.

"I've agreed to let Arthon tutor Sirya for a time," Legolas brought up to Emarth and Baineth later that day.

"Oh," Emarth said, surprised by the notion. "If that's what you want."

"I want your opinion," Legolas sighed, a glass of wine in his hand.

"I'm alright with it if you feel he is trustworthy," Baineth said.

"Same," Emarth agreed, downing the remainder of his wine. Legolas rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Alright, Arthon it is."

In the coming weeks, Arthon taught Sirya all he could, and no sign of Herenvarno was found. No leaf or rock was found overturned. Nothing was out of place in the kingdom, and it made them search harder.

Emarth took Sirya to see Laina, now that the orphans were staying in the palace. They'd been friends since they were small children. Emarth allowed them out of his sight, allowing them to walk several paces ahead of him, where he sensed a romance growing.

"Did they find your Adar?" Laina asked, she wrapped her golden hair around her finger repeatedly.

"No not yet," Sirya swallowed, trying not to correct her. He was not his Adar. He was a stranger.

"well, I hope they do soon," she said, and Sirya squeezed her arm. He could feel something was on her mind.

They walked out to the courtyard, where guards lined the outer rim. Sunlight shined on them, illuminating the cobblestones to mock that of the sun behind the clouds. Sirya's cloak skated over the top of them, the blue silk glimmering in the sunlight. The guards tensed at the sight of Sirya, and stood up straight at the sight of Emarth. The royal family was rarely down in the courtyard for leisure, meaning the elite guard was rarely there to supervise.

"Do you have anyone to go to the summer festival with?" Sirya asked, fingers picking at his tunic.

She shook her head, "no," the tension within her growing.

"Would you like to go with me?"

She stopped and tensed, and Sirya immediately regret the question.

"Sirya I-"

"No, its ok, nevermind-" he stuttered, waving his hand.

"Its just, you know-" she tried, getting flustered herself.

"I know," Sirya shook his head.

"I don't want to have to-"

"I really don't need to hear anymore," Sirya said, and turned away to walk back to Emarth.

"Here," Emarth said and Sirya adjusted his course to find him. He tried to make it to him without tripping or making a fool out of himself, which he managed, and Emarth took his arm with a firm, protective grasp.

"Sirya," she cried and jogged up to him grabbing his arm. "Please, let me explain. I wish to go with you but-"

"Please," Sirya's voice was pained. "I understand. It will not be enjoyable to attend with someone who cannot see your dress. Someone who cannot lead you in a dance."

Tears sprang into her eyes and Emarth led Sirya away, back toward the protection of the Royal Wing.

"Your Adar is there, he'll be happy to see you," Emarth tried.

"I-" Sirya's voice was breathy. Stunned. "I do not know what to say."

"I do," Emarth said and Sirya ran his hand over his hair, pulling his circlet from his head. "Anyone who cannot value you for who you are, is not worth it. Even if you could see, you now know that she cannot get around a very selfish concern. That, surely, is a sign of a far larger imperfection she has herself."

The elf leaned against the tree, a pipe in his mouth. His hair was tangled and matted, but still held the impenetrable darkness that could mask the brightest of light. His eyes were the lightest of blues, nearly white in the setting sun. His clothing were rags, bloodied scratches dyeing their edges red.

"You say you see the boy every day?" The elf asked.

"Nearly," Arthon cleared his throat.

"You can bring yourself to teach him art and literature, when without him, you would still be at the right hand of the Prince?"

Arthon had, in fact, considered that himself. Without that child, Legolas would still be the selfish brat everyone knew. Now he spent his time fawning over the broken, idiotic elfling.

"Without that child, things would be different," Arthon agreed.

"Bring him to me. Bring him to me, and the child will be gone. Back where he belongs, with his Atar."

Arthon considered. He could always bring Sirya out to see him, and capture the greasy noldo, winning back his position and the trust of the prince yet again. Arthon grinned, he was in.

"What did you say your name was?"

The elf smiled, his teeth yellowed from years of prison time.

"Herenvarno."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always! Please review. Sirya is roughly 15 in elf years here.The next chapter will be longer, and will dig into this time period. It should be up soon. We're not too much before the time of the events of Lord of the Rings.


	15. To Approach a Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirya, Emarth, and Legolas begin to deal with conflicts they didn't expect.

"Sirya, meleth nin."

Legolas set his wine glass down on his desk, and traced a circle around a section of the forest on the map in his hand. Sirya knew the tone and walked over to his father's desk. He handed him the glass of water and the pinch of herbs, and Sirya licked it off his hand and washed it down with water. Legolas, Sirya, and Baineth sat in the royal wing's sitting room. It was just after breakfast, and the windows were opened to relieve the room of its stifling humidity. A cool breeze blew off of the Long Lake, and forced Legolas to put his dagger on his map as a paperweight. He had been quiet since he had returned from his walk with Emarth. Legolas himself, had something on his mind. Watching him swallow the herbs… It made him think of what Elrond had said. Sirya needed surgery, and it was time to decide.

"What is it that is bothering you so?" Legolas asked, watching Sirya choke down the disgusting anti-inflammatory herbs that kept his pain in check.

"Emarth told me about Laina," Legolas tried.

Sirya groaned and downed the rest of his water, like his grandfather did his wine when he was stressed.

"Damn him," Sirya whispered.

"What happened?" Legolas asked again.

"I asked her to accompany me to the festival and she declined," Sirya sighed. Baineth's head perked up from her chair by the window.

"What was her reason?" Legolas asked, making a note on his map.

"Because I'm a hassle."

Legolas put down his quill. "She said that to you?"

Sirya threw up his hands, "Well, no but-"

"Then what did she actually say?"

Sirya shrugged, and Legolas sat back in his chair, exasperated. "It is not fair to make assumptions about her feelings."

"There is a very strong chance that is why. She would have to walk me everywhere, help me with my food. I cannot dance with her, Adar. I am not the most interesting date," Sirya explained, his determined stubbornness shining in his eyes.

"Let us, for a moment, pretend that is her reason," Legolas cleared his throat, "She may have reserves about those things, because she has never had to help you before. You are not an annoyance in the slightest, but there is a learning curve that can be intimidating to a young elleth. Especially at such a public event. Blind elves are virtually unheard of. She would be in uncharted territory. However," Legolas stood, "you are both very young still. It is hard for her, and for you, to be honest with one another. You are both figuring out your lives, and your feelings. I myself believe that she declined simply because you are of the royal family, and everyone will be there to see her if she embarrasses herself."

"I think your Adar is right," Baineth chimed in. "I believe you should talk to her."

Emarth did take Sirya to retrieve Laina shortly after, who was shocked to see him.

"Sirya," she greeted, closing the door to her room behind her, "I did not think I would see you again."

Sirya sighed, his hand over his pounding heart, "I did not mean to jump to conclusions regarding your response to my request."

She blushed, glancing at Emarth, who was trying and failing to avert his gaze from the young couple.

"I wish you would have allowed me to explain myself," she whispered, putting hair behind her ear self-consciously.

"I would like to. Perhaps now, if you are not busy," Sirya suggested.

She agreed, and they walked to the stables. They sat on the hill under the old willow that hid them from the burning sun, and Emarth spent time with the horses, staying where he could see them. The sun glinted off of Sirya's hair in shining blue tones that accented his porcelain skin and cerulean eyes. Although he couldn't see her, Laina still blushed as if he could. He was a commanding presence, partially due to his breathtaking noldorin beauty, and partially due to his uncommon wisdom; which laced beautifully through his deep, lightly accented voice.

"I wish for you to know," he said quietly, "that you do not owe me an explanation. You are not obligated to attend the festival with me. I still wish to remain friends nevertheless."

She pulled grass from the ground, thinking. "I want to go with you. I just…" She hesitated, and Sirya turned his head toward her, listening.

"What is it?" he murmured.

"I do not know… I do know what to do. To help you. Or how to act. I also have nothing to wear that is appropriate, no one to help me ready myself…" she rambled, her voice jittery.

"Do you truly wish to go with me?" Sirya interrupted, his cool voice calmed her pounding heart.

"Yes. Of course, Sirya," she said incredulously.

"Then all of those obstacles can be averted. I will tell you what I need, and my Naneth can help you get ready, she has many dresses I am sure she can tailor to fit you. That is, if you are sure."

"I could not ask that of your Naneth-"

"She knows already, I believe," Sirya smirked, his eyes facing the ground as he pulled grass from its roots. "She will be more than happy to help."

Laina grinned, and put her hand over his, "I am looking forward to it."

Emarth watched, a lopsided grin on his face. Sirya's glow returned to his face, his childlike excitement rejuvenated. Emarth stroked his horse, and she whinnied happily at the unexpected attention. Emarth's smile faded, and his spine tensed subconsciously at the familiar sound of footsteps on the dirt road. He turned to meet Arthon's eyes. In them he found shame and fear, and his hand found his dagger reflexively.

"Sirya does not have lessons today," Emarth said, warning in his tone.

"I know. I came to see you."

Emarth lowered his hand, and forced his body to relax.

"What can I help you with?"

Arthon moaned, his eyes squinting in pain, "I do not know."

Emarth lowered his hand, and his horse neighed in protest. "What is wrong?"

"If… if you could do something potentially dangerous to regain your honor, would you?"

His voice was so soft, that Emarth had to run through the question again in his head.

"I suppose it would depend on the action. I could never and would never do anything that would potentially hurt someone else. It is simply against my beliefs."

"What if you were desperate?"

"Never," Emarth said firmly. He believed Arthon was referring to their incident all those years ago. Arthon's attention was focused on Sirya and Laina talking quietly on the hill.

"He is a wonderful child," Arthon said.

"Yes," Emarth said, turning around to watch them again.

Arthon was trying to tell Emarth about Herenvarno, but the words couldn't make the journey from his thoughts to his tongue. They were so… horrid. It was the highest form of treason, and to admit to one of the highest members of the guard that he was considering it was… unthinkable. He'd nearly ruined Emarth's life, what would keep him from turning him in immediately? Saving The prince's blind son from his terrible and violent father escaped from prison… he could hear the stories of valor and glory. His father's pride would glow through his shame and grief.

Arthon turned and left, and Emarth watched him silently, his hands shaking.

"Adar, would it be alright if Laina and I-"

"No," Legolas said and Thranduil's eyebrow rose. Legolas rarely told Sirya no. They were sitting at dinner, and Legolas had been strangely silent since Sirya had gotten home from his walk with Laina. Baineth stared at Legolas, agitation evident in her glare.

"Not today. After dinner, we must have a talk."

Sirya shifted, partially stunned by his father's response and partially about this impending talk.

"About what?" Sirya asked quietly.

"We will discuss it later, for now, eat your dinner."

Legolas' tone was clipped, and Sirya nodded, shock still in the air. Thranduil knew very well with this talk was about, but did not think it fair to keep the child in the dark. Legolas got up, glancing at his father with a fearful glint in his eye.

"I shall be back shortly."

Sirya's unfocused eyes faced the floor, confusion and fear in them. The door closed, and he flinched.

"You have done nothing wrong, penneth," Thranduil assured him. Sirya turned his head toward his grandfather, his expression unchanging. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, tears hanging in them.

"I know what he is to speak to you of, and I assure you that you have done absolutely nothing wrong," Baineth said and took his hand in hers.

"He sounded as if I have," Sirya said gently, his gentle voice begging for reassurance.

"You have not. He is under immense pressure, and it does in fact poison his behavior. But he loves you very much," Baineth said and glance worriedly at Thranduil. This conversation would be difficult.

Legolas shut the door quietly behind him as he reentered, clearly sobered by his walk.

"Sirya," Legolas began, sighing. He didn't want to do this to him. He didn't want to admit this was real. "Lord Elrond told me about your head pain. Remember?"

"Yes," Sirya said and Legolas sat down and stroked his hair. He watched him, his loving hands carefully putting his hair behind his ear.

"It is caused by pressure that will continue to grow as you do. It could cause other problems, if we do not fix it."

"what other problems?"

Legolas hesitated.

"An increase in pain, deafness, loss of memory-" Baineth said softly.

"I could become deaf as well?" Sirya's forced calm was a bottled force that was soon to blow. This, Legolas knew all too well. "What is fixing it?" Sirya asked, tears in his eyes.

"Relieving pressure in your brain, by means of surgery," Legolas said soundlessly.

"You are telling me this now why?" Sirya asked, tears in his voice.

"Because I wish for you to choose if you want to have the surgery, which brings risks with it, or to take your chances with fate."

Sirya put his hand to his mouth, and Legolas knelt before him, his hands on his knees.

"I am so sorry, meleth nin. I would take this pain from you if I could."

"What do I do?" Sirya choked.

"I wish for you to make this decision on your own, with the support of your Naneth and I. You are old enough, and possess enough wisdom for this decision. Loth is always available for you if you have questions about how it works, but I would like for lord Elrond to perform the procedure if you decide to choose thusly."

Sirya sobbed, and Legolas took him into his arms. "Deaf and blind, what will I do then?"

"We would figure out a way, as we always do," Legolas assured him, "Nothing could happen to you that would cause me to abandon you. No matter your decision or its outcome, I will support you."

They spoke of potential outcomes and risks until Sirya grew tired of speaking about it and went to bed, his mind burdened with newfound worry. Legolas himself was burdened. Sirya was under far too much stress. Lord Elrond had told him stress would be a trigger of potentially fatal consequences to Sirya.

"You did what was right," Thranduil assured him, "you gave him control of his own destiny."

Sirya nearly doubled his intake of pain herbs throughout the rest of the week, and Legolas was concerned he was overusing them. He decided to move the herbs, as horrible as he felt.

"Adar?" Sirya called less than an hour later.

"Yes?" Legolas replied, knowing what was to follow.

"My medicine-"

"You have to slow down," Legolas said softly and walked into the room. Sirya stood by the desk where his medicine usually was, a glass of water in his shaking hand. "Taking more is going to make you very sick."

Sirya turned away, running his hand through his hair. "It has been more painful as of late."

"In that case we must see Telion. These herbs are not to be played with."

Sirya nodded and the guiltiness in his heart found Legolas' own feä.

"It is not your doing. I know you are in pain."

Sirya embraced his father, a deep breath warming Legolas' ear.

"I cannot do this much longer," he whispered, so soft that Legolas could barely hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! You're all the best. I'd like to thank everyone for their support and love of this story and my writing.


	16. Delight and Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirya's life continues to grow complicated, and with maturity comes happiness, and despair.

Legolas watched the birds chase one another across the clearing, and tied his boots. Emarth had reluctantly allowed Legolas and Sirya to venture off on their own while he and Loth went to check on the nearest village. It was humid, the air clinging to his skin like damp parchment. The air did not move, it simply sat, stale and heavy. Legolas ran his fingers along the tree bark, his feä delighted to be in the forest again. His mind was alert, however. Someone was after his son… it was not a time Legolas felt comfortable taking his eyes off of him. He looked up at Sirya, and he had waded across the river in search of the lilacs he smelled.

"Come, Sirya," Legolas called and Sirya started toward him from across the river.

"I asked you not to, did I not?"

"I, apologize. I did not intend to aggravate you, Adar," Sirya said lightly, and Legolas stood on the opposite side of the river and waited.

"You must listen to me. This is not a part of the forest in which you should play."

Sirya nodded, and the water rushed around Sirya's legs, darkening his silken cloak again. Sirya bent down to put his hands in the water and Legolas sighed impatiently. He hated being without arrows. He stroked the quiver until he blindly found the arrows within, and counted three. He looked up and saw movement behind Sirya, the leaves rustling in the bushes. His eyes narrowed, struggling to focus on the moving form. He saw fur, and he drew his bow with caution.

"Sirya. Tread slowly," Legolas said low as he strung his bow. Sirya's eyes widened, his silk cape trying to escape down the river.

"Don't be afraid, it can sense your fear. I will not let it hurt you."

"Adar-" he whispered fearfully.

The warg started toward Sirya and Legolas loosened an arrow. It whistled by Sirya's ear and lodged itself in the warg's eye. Just then two more emerged from the woods, and without a second thought, Legolas killed them both. Sirya's frozen stupor was shattered and he rushed through the water toward Legolas, his mouth open in terror. Legolas was out of arrows, and ran toward Sirya, the water lapping at his hips.

"Come, it is alright," He said hurriedly, another two wargs swam across the river toward them. They reached the shore and Legolas pushed Sirya up onto the grass.

"Go, go now," He shouted and swung his dagger, making it sing and slice the burdening air.

"Adar!" Sirya cried.

"Go, Sirya!" Legolas turned and screamed.

His moment of distraction allowed a warg to swipe at his side with its claws. Legolas turned, more enraged than in pain, and jammed the dagger between its eyes. The other swiped at him and he dodged it, but it knocked the dagger from his hand. Legolas punched it in the nose, and it reared back and shook its head in pain. Legolas staggered after his dagger, but the warg was growling and stalking after him. Legolas picked up a stick and jammed it into its eye, killing it with a whine and a thud. Legolas dropped to his knees, the amount of blood pouring from his side was alarming. His entire right side was shining red and dripped onto his leggings. His side was torn flesh, dirt and grime from the beast's claws was embedded in the wound and wet silk of his tunic. His tunic was cutting into the wound, and every breath squeezed the fabric into his raw flesh. Legolas cried out, knowing how this wound would be stitched, and crawled up the shore.

"Sirya!" He called, and Sirya cried out from behind a tree. Legolas brought himself to his feet. He was lightheaded, and his side pulsated and stung with every beat of his heart. He clutched his side, his warm blood was as sickeningly thick and sticky as the air that thinly trickled into his lungs with each ragged breath. Sirya staggered toward him and tripped, fear in his upturned brow and open mouth.

"Adar-"

"I am injured," Legolas breathed weakly, "I need you."

Sirya gasped and rushed toward him.

"My right side, it has clawed me," Legolas whispered, blood dripped from his hand onto the ground.

"What do I do?" Sirya cried.

"Do not panic," Legolas smiled feebly, "that is the worst you can do at the moment. I will be alright. I must get my tunic away from the wound. The pain… pour some of my water onto it and then we must pull my tunic from my side. Emarth is looking for us. He will find us," Legolas assured both Sirya and himself.

"How do I-"

"Help me get to the tree."

Sirya lifted Legolas into his arms with a grunt. He adjusted his hand away from the wound, and Legolas' head sagged on his shoulder.

"For the love of all the Valar, I beg you, do not drop me," Legolas choked. Sirya carried him, his love evident in his gentility. He swiped the ground before him with his foot before stepping to ensure he didn't fall.

"The tree is just here, set me down," Legolas said and Sirya did sympathetically. Legolas dragged himself to lean against the tree and leaves crunched in protest as he did.

"Adar I…" Sirya was at a loss for words. It was evident he was barely retaining his terror, unable to see the wound or its severity. Legolas pawed at the cut, the strength leaving his arms.

"I cannot get the tunic away from the wound," Legolas murmured.

"I cannot! I cannot see it to help, to ensure I do it correctly…" Sirya cried.

"Do not get upset," Legolas said, his eyes closed, "You cannot fail, it is simply a tunic," he promised.

"I could hurt you," Sirya was shaking, tears blurring in his eyes.

"Sirya. I need you, ion nin. I need your help. I know this is scary, but it is important."

Sirya nodded and wiped his eyes hastily, revealing determination beneath. Legolas put his hands on his face.

"It is going to be alright."

Sirya gritted his teeth, and Legolas guided his hand. "Merely feel for the fabric and pull it out. That is all."

Sirya nodded again and felt for the fabric that pulled at his wounds. He sifted through the deep wound, blood gushed up around his fingers. His eyes were screwed shut, and his fingers dug through his tattered skin. He found a strip of fabric and pulled it gingerly from Legolas' skin. Relief. That part of the wound was no longer choked and squeezed.

"There, you have it, now tear it."

Sirya groaned and tore with one fluid motion, faster than Legolas could prepare himself. Legolas winced, waves pounding in his head.

"A few more," He whispered, his vision blurred. "Sirya," He mumbled as his son searched for the tunic. "If I lose consciousness..."

"No Adar..." Sirya shook his head, "no, you cannot, you cannot leave me, not out here alone! You could die!"

"I will not die," Legolas said, "But I will lose consciousness. When I do, you must stay calm. Loth and Emarth are looking for us. Even if they do not find us soon, I will regain consciousness and we shall go home. It is important that you stay calm, ion nin. I need you to take care of me."

"Okay," Sirya's voice shook. His hands were shaking as well.

"I am alright, please, pull the cloth from the wound, meleth nin."

He did, and Legolas cried out and squirmed. Sirya had torn skin from the wound, opening it further and sending more blood cascading over his hipbone.

"I am sorry!" Sirya cried, flinching his hands away like he'd burned them.

"It is alright, just keep going, there are only two more," Legolas gasped through gritted teeth. The pain was stung and shot in unpredictable patterns through his abdomen. Sirya recoiled, hooves pounding on the ground. Sirya stood and waved his blood soaked hands in the air. Emarth and Loth galloped over, and Legolas had never been so relieved to see his Second.

"Legolas!" Emarth gasped and Sirya sobbed in relief. His bloodied hands fell to his sides.

"A warg-" Sirya sobbed and Emarth pulled him into his arms. "It is all my fault Adar will die!" He cried, and Emarth stroked his hair. His eyes met Loth's the question in his concerned gaze. Will he die?

Legolas focused on Loth's face as he dug through his bag. His sparkling blue eyes shone with worry in the bright sun that filtered through the leaves. The mosaic shadows of light dancing through the foliage danced across his alabaster skin.

"What have you done to yourself this time?" Loth smirked, "You certainly ensure I continue to work."

Legolas gave him a lopsided smile while Loth cleaned his hands with a liquid he had in his bag. He wiped his hands off hastily and rolled up his sleeves before he ripped the tunic from his wound in one fluid motion, dabbing at it with a towel and pouring water onto it immediately after. Legolas cried out, but was appreciative of his speed and expertise. Loth wiped his forehead with the back of his wrist and pressed a cloth into Legolas' side.

"Stay with me. You have lost a lot of blood, I know, but stay with me."

Legolas tried to keep his eyes open, "How did you find us?" Legolas asked.

"The trail of blood certainly lent a hand," Loth smirked, and spread a salve over the wound meant to prevent infection and staunch the bleeding. Legolas moaned low in his throat, before loosening a cry. The salve burned like a brand against his raw flesh. Sirya sobbed in Emarth's arms, covering Emarth in Legolas' blood.

"I know," Loth said and pulled him up into a sitting position. His hand held Legolas up firmly, and his head lolled forward. He leaned Legolas against his chest, and wrapped his torso in tight, cotton bandages. Legolas' hair was mingled with Loth's, and he stared at their intertwined hair as he wrapped methodically. Loth's hair was dipped in blood, several shades closer to gold than Legolas'. Once he was wrapped, Legolas was handed off to Emarth while Loth got on the horse.

"Pass him up to me."

Emarth sat Legolas in front of Loth gently, and Legolas recalled doing the same with Emarth when they had traveled to Rivendell years ago. Loth leaned him against his shoulder.

"We are close to home. Do not worry, hir nin," Loth murmured.

Legolas was distracted by how upset Sirya was, and listened to his son's quiet concerns voiced to Emarth until the forest darkened in his eyes, and the world melted away.

His consciousness was a muddy battle. It seemed like weeks, he was never entirely sure if he was awake or cheated by false visions and memories. But once he woke in his bed, he was sure. His blankets were welcomed, a familiarity he had forgotten. He was wrapped in bandages, although he was not entirely sure why. The sun was shining happily through his picture window. It was almost obscene compared to the darkness of his dreams of late. Thranduil sat at his desk, the sun draped over him like an old friend. He was doing his son's paperwork.

"Adar," Legolas' voice was sore, gravelly and unpracticed. Thranduil looked up, a smile on his face. His silvery hair fell in front of his angular features as he rose, the sun glistening over his skin.

"I am relieved you are awake, I was terribly concerned. To be honest, I have missed you as well."

Legolas smiled, and Thranduil ran his hand over his son's forehead. He smiled proudly, love pouring from his gaze. He kissed his forehead and stroked his hair.

"Where is Sirya?" Legolas asked.

"In his room. You have frightened him terribly. He believes it is his fault, and that you will no longer love him."

Legolas sighed and tried to move his leg, but his abdomen cried at the attempt. "I feel terrible. He was horribly upset."

"He will recover, I assure you. We have all been worried about you. You have been asleep for three days."

"Three days?" Legolas moaned.

"Indeed. How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Legolas grumbled.

"That warg quite nearly tore you into halves. Tirion had to sew you back together."

Legolas whimpered and put his hand on his head gingerly.

"I will get Sirya. He desperately needs your comfort."

Legolas nodded and Thranduil returned with Sirya in tow moments later.

"Ada?" Sirya squeaked, and Legolas adjusted himself before moaning low in his throat.

"Meleth nin," Legolas said and took his hands as he approached.

"How- how are you?" Sirya asked, equal parts worry and relief steeped in his expression.

"I am quite alright. I told you I would be alright," Legolas said and stroked his arm.

"I am really sorry," Sirya whispered.

"Do not be. You did not do anything wrong. It is not your fault. It is mine, I should have allowed Emarth to come with us. I knew that I was nearly out of arrows."

"I took off-"

"Did you know that would happen?"

Sirya shook his head.

"Did you make the wargs attack us?"

He shook his head again.

"Then it is not your fault. It is the wargs doing. He is the one that sunk his horrid claws into me."

Sirya bobbed his head and Legolas pulled him into an embrace.

"I shall be up and about soon. Do not worry about me another moment."

"Do you want anything?" Sirya asked.

"Just for you to stay here with me. I have missed you terribly."

Thranduil smiled from behind Sirya, and squeezed his shoulder before nudging him toward Legolas. Legolas grinned and Sirya returned it, before climbing into bed next to his father.

"That is far better."

Sirya lay next to Legolas, and Emarth was soon in the room as well and sat next to Legolas. He fiddled with his broken fingernail and listened to Thranduil tell a story about a time he had fallen from a tree in his youth.

"I must say, I am incredibly proud of you," Legolas said as he stroked Sirya's hair. "I know how scared you were in the forest, and you kept yourself together very well. Without you, that would have been very different. I am impressed, and I am proud to be your Adar."

Sirya grinned and embraced him. Emarth rubbed his back, grinning.

"Legolas is right. You did wonderfully."

Legolas fell asleep shortly after, his hand in Sirya's hair.

"Are you looking forward to the festival?" Emarth asked Sirya.

"Yes, but, I do not know any of the dances. I remember in the past Adar would hold me, but I do not believe that would be appropriate now."

Emarth laughed quietly, "no, that is not an effective way to impress an elleth. Come, I will teach you."

"Oh-"

"Hush, come and dance."

Sirya stood and Emarth took his hands. They walked out into the sitting room, and Thranduil joined them with his cup of tea. Emarth explained and demonstrated the feel of each dance with incredible patience. Emarth would switch with Thranduil every few dances and they danced until Sirya felt comfortable. The steps settled into muscle memory, and he had fun dancing with his grandfather and Emarth.

"Better?" Emarth asked as he twirled Sirya around.

"Yes," He giggled, "thank you."

"I believe Laina will be captivated by your new found talent," Thranduil smiled.

"I hope so."

Emarth left to get some work done, and Thranduil returned to Legolas' room to finish his paperwork. Sirya then went in search of Baineth.

"Hello, meleth nin" Baineth said as Sirya entered. She now lived in the royal wing, across the hall from Legolas and Sirya. His face was solemn, and she took his elbow.

"What is wrong?" She asked and led him to the sofa.

"Legolas is awake."

"That is great to hear," She said and stroked his cheek. "Why does that upset you so?"

"He is in terrible pain," He said quietly, fiddling with his hair.

"He is injured, ion nin. He will be better soon. You must be patient with your Adar," She said softly, "Legolas is very strong. He recovers much faster than you would think. Especially with all the love and support we can offer him."

"But it is all my fault," He admitted, his head tipped back in anguish.

"We talked about this," She said assertively, but with careful discretion.

"I know but-"

"Sirya. It was not your fault, penneth. If you had known it was going to happen you would not have done it and that is what is important. You cannot torment yourself with something that occurred in the past. It will do nothing for you or for your Adar. Everyone is aware that it was an accident. The forest is very dangerous, and that is something that has nothing to do with you. Legolas made a poor decision in not taking Emarth with him, and Emarth made a poor decision in allowing you two to go without his protection. It was an accident in many cases, and it was no one's fault."

Sirya nodded, and she rubbed his arms. "Your Adar and I love you more than anyone or anything in Arda. Always."

Sirya grinned and embraced his Naneth, "I love you, too."

"Is Legolas awake still? I would like to see him."

"He was asleep when I had left, but Daeradar said Telion wished to change his bandages within the hour."

"Wonderful."

They walked across the hall, and Legolas was talking to Telion.

"Baineth," He breathed, and she embraced him.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, running her hand through his hair.

"Tired," He chuckled weakly and Sirya was awkwardly playing with his tunic. "Sore," He said quietly.

"That is to be expected," she said, relieved he was awake.

"Let me change those bandages," Telion said, and Legolas groaned.

Telion cut them and slowly peeled them from the wound. He had many stitches, lining his entire side from under the waist of his pants to the middle of his chest.

"By the Valar," Legolas whispered.

"It appears worse than it is," Telion chuckled, "Sort of." He poked at the inflammation and Legolas gasped.

"I am going to clean and bandage it now, then you are free for another few hours."

"Yes," Legolas sighed, and Baineth smirked. Sirya was standing beside her silently, and she guided him toward the bed and into a sitting position. He wiped his wounds free of blood and pus. He then tugged at a stitch gently to ensure it had held, and Legolas cried out.

"Alright, I hear you," Telion said sarcastically and Baineth squeezed Legolas' hand.

Telion wiped his hands on a towel, an exasperated look on his face. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he wiped it away impatiently.

"It will be a few weeks before you are able to move around as you previously did. I suggest you stay in bed, Legolas, but I know better than to expect that from you. So, at the very least, try to stay in bed for the next three or four days?"

Thranduil smirked and touched the side of Legolas' face. "He will," he promised, and Legolas gave him a tired, playful frown.

"Adar, would it be alright if I retrieved my work from the academy this week?"

Legolas sighed, "yes, but please go with a guard."

They managed to keep Legolas in bed for the three days prior to the summer festival. Each day he grew stronger, and Sirya was soon reassured that his Adar would be alright.

On the day of the festival, Legolas insisted upon going, and his family did not try to stop him. Sirya helped Legolas into his leggings and boots, after which Legolas was able to put on his tunic and cloak on his own. Thranduil braided his hair for him, while Sirya dressed. Once he was dressed, he sat at the vanity, and Legolas ran the comb delicately through Sirya's hair, the light dancing like stars. He turned his head to face his father, the shadow falling into the gentle curve of his cheekbone. His clear blue eyes sparkled with mirth.

"How do I look?"

"Spectacular," Legolas smiled, pulling his hair into his hands. He began to fold it beautifully into a braid of the royal family. His expert hands weaved with little thought, their master distracted by his son in the mirror. Sirya wore a beautiful silk outfit of blue and black, a silver brooch at his throat matching the circlet resting on his head. Crystals fell from it, nested in his onyx hair. Legolas adjusted his collar and rested his hands on either side of his face.

"Laina is a fortunate elleth."

"Thank you, Adar." His voice was heavy with emotion, and Legolas kissed the top of his head. Thranduil entered, dressed well in his green cloaked outfit and summer crown of daisies and fine roses.

"By the Valar," he smiled, winking to his son. "You shall distract the entirety of the great hall."

Sirya blushed and Thranduil laughed and kissed his cheek. "Come," he took his grandson's hand and Legolas followed them into the hall. Baineth stood before him, her pastel blue gown far lighter than Sirya's navy. White lace adorned portions of the top, tulle lightly caressing her torso. Her hair was braided elegantly, and a jeweled branch was behind her ear. Legolas' mouth was agape, and Thranduil bowed his head to her.

"My, you look lovely," Thranduil smiled and winked to Legolas. Emarth and Arthon had been waiting for Legolas outside his door, and they were now at Legolas' side in the hallway. They both wore their military best, each medal carefully pinned to their tunics. Their velvet tapered cloaks of emerald swept behind them, and they both had their hair braided elaborately. Legolas nodded to them both. He was proud as always to have them at his side. Sirya took his father's arm, and Thranduil took Baineth's. Legolas was leaning on Sirya a little heavier than he intended, and Sirya stopped, his eyes worried. His sudden halt alarmed Thranduil and his guard, Leniven.

"Are you not well?" Sirya asked, his hand on his father's chest.

"I am alright," he breathed, pain in his side. "Please."

Sirya nodded and let his father lean on him. When they arrived, the party was already in full swing. Summer blossoms and vines covered every surface, the entire ballroom an explosion of color. Hundreds of round tables with fine linen tablecloths surrounded an exquisite dance floor of dark mahogany wood. A dozen musicians were positioned at the edge of the dance floor, their instruments filling the room with beautiful music familiar to all in the room. The royal table was a large, rectangular dining table that sat at the far edge of the room, its backdrop an ancient mural covered with falling ivy and hydrangeas. The table had enough seats for Thranduil, Legolas, Sirya, Baineth, Laina, Arthon, Leniven, and Emarth.

The room went silent upon their arrival, and everyone stood, their heads bowed in respect. Sirya sensed the hundreds of eyes on him and shrunk. He hated attention directed at him. Legolas tapped his arm and lead him to the table. The party resumed and Laina sat next to Sirya. Baineth had helped her get ready earlier in the day, and she had been waiting with the other orphans at their table. Baineth's assistant was their chaperone for the night so Baineth could enjoy time with her family. Sirya's nervousness was flooding lLegolas' thoughts, and Legolas couldn't help but smile. The song for a Sindarin waltz came on, and Legolas nudged Sirya.

"You must remember what Emarth and Daeradar taught you, go!" He whispered, and Sirya's hands were shaking. "Come, your mother and I are going to dance too." Legolas kissed the top of his head.

"Would you… would you wish to dance with me?" Sirya turned and asked her quietly.

"Yes," she had a smile on her voice. He stood, and took her arm hesitantly. He was far more nervous than he had expected. He didn't think of all the people that would be present, all of the eyes to see him stumble. He'd never been this alone with Laina, and he was anxious about her guiding him. What if she didn't tell him about an obstacle and he made a fool of himself? He held onto her tightly, and she pulled his hand from her arm gently.

"You are holding too tight," she giggled.

"Oh, I apologize-" he whispered, blushing. They were on the dance floor, and he felt disoriented and scrutinized under the gazes of many in the room. They would laugh at him, pity him. Look at the prince's blind son try…

"I cannot-" he murmured in her ear.

She ran her hand through his hair and pushed it gently behind his ear.

"I will lead," She said, her voice soothing. She took his shaking hand and pulled him into motion. It was a faster dance, and Emarth had done it with him repeatedly until he couldn't do it anymore. But now it was different. She was not Emarth, and this was not his living room. She was strong, and pulled him around the dance floor, his body tense. He was making a fool out of himself. They would judge… laugh… He couldn't do it.

"If you wish to stop, I shall stop," She said, halting suddenly.

"I-" he flinched. He suddenly had hands on his shoulders.

"Come," it was his Nana, and he turned toward her. "Come, dance with me."

Sirya was worried about Laina, and she must have sensed it, because she said, "please, I will stay here."

Sirya took his Naneth's hand, and she led him around the floor. She was resilient and confident, and he followed her movements, muscle memory staggering with nerves.

"Are you not enjoying yourself?" She asked him.

"I must appear ridiculous-" he whispered.

"No," She said firmly. "No one feels that way. Everyone is happy and celebrating, and you should too. Do not plague yourself with worry of others' thoughts. Enjoy your time with your family. With Laina. I once felt as you do, and it prevented me from enjoying your Adar's attention."

The song ended, and they stopped.

"Do not worry, remember to ask questions when you are lost. Have fun. Laina wishes for you to."

He nodded and kissed her head. "Thank you, Nana."

She handed him off to Laina and they returned to the table to eat. They talked and laughed, and Legolas remained reserved. Sirya knew it was because of his injury, but he tried to ignore it and enjoy himself like his Adar wanted. Sirya didn't want Legolas to worry about him. After they ate, another song came on that Sirya knew the dance to.

"Would you wish to dance? I believe I'm ready this time," his asked Laina with false confidence, trying to remember that his Naneth had felt this way, too.

"Of course," She took his hand and led him back out to the dance floor. She stopped them on the floor, and she put his hand on her waist.

"I do not wish to embarrass you," he explained, and she led them slowly around the floor.

"It is entirely impossible for you to embarrass me, Sirya. I wish for you to have fun with me."

He smiled and she laughed and led him faster around the floor, her quiet laugh lightening the weight on his heart and lifting his spirit. If both she and his parents didn't care about the thoughts of others, why should he? Over the course of the night, Sirya began to enjoy himself with increasing vigor. He and Laina danced to nearly every song, even the songs he didn't know the steps to. She didn't seem to care that he couldn't see, or that he must have looked silly, or that she had to help him on occasion with stairs or drinks. She was happy to be with him, and that was all she cared about. The musicians took a break, and Sirya and Laina returned to the table, smiling and laughing.

"Sirya," his Naneth said quietly.

"Yes, Naneth?"

"Your Adar is sore and tired, we are going to return home. Stay with Emarth, and come to see me when you return so I will not worry."

"Yes, Nana," he nodded and she kissed his temple. "Have fun, meleth nin."

Baineth helped Legolas up, and Sirya could sense his pain, and guilt pulsed through him. He was dancing and having fun while his Adar suffered.

"Adar," he caught his wrist.

"I am perfectly fine, ion nin, do not fret. I need rest. That is all."

Sirya sighed and Legolas rubbed his shoulder before walking off with Baineth. They danced to another song, and Emarth was watching him like a hawk. Sirya could feel his gaze on him, his focus entirely set on Sirya's every move.

He felt someone's feä fill the seat next to him, and he turned his head to better hear whoever it was.

Arthon.

"Come, I'll take you to retrieve your notes from school. Your Adar told me you wished to retrieve them, and the night is nearly finished." Arthon said.

He did want his notes. His Adar had said it was fine as long as he took a guard. Arthon was certainly qualified.

Sirya turned to Laina, "I will be back shortly."

"I will wait."

Sirya smiled and took Arthon's arm hesitantly, "Did you ask my Adar? Or Emarth?"

"Of course. I just asked Emarth and he agreed," Arthon said. Sirya could no longer feel Emarth watching him. They walked toward the door, and once they were in the hallway, Sirya could feel his apprehension. He tried to pull away.

Arthon, however, had his arm locked in his. Panic settled into Sirya's stomach, and his thoughts flashed to when his father had tossed him into the ravine. He had pulled and flailed, panic in his throat like it had been when he was a child. But now he was blind. Once he was outside of the palace, he'd be helpless.

"No!" He crie and threw his weight backwards. Arthon held him up, fear building up in his aura.

"Be quiet, Sirya," He commanded, and pulled him down the corridor faster.

Most of the guards would be in the festival, and the way they were going was in the direction of the emergency corridor. There were no guards there during festivals. The cool air from the opened doors rushed against his face, and he balked, screaming. His heart was pounding, and he pulled against Arthon's arm. Leaves rustled under their footsteps, and peepers cried in the night. Arthon dragged him only a short distance, before Sirya's panic escalated to animal-like hysteria.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" Arthon whispered, pulling him roughly against his chest. "Be silent!"

"Adar!" Sirya screamed, tears running down his cheeks.

"Yes?" Sirya froze, gritting his teeth together in horror. It was Herenvarno.

"Arthon! Arthon please, I'll do anything!" Sirya sobbed, and he was torn violently from Arthon's hands. He knew his father's rough grasp, his angry feä pressing against his own fearful one.

"You promised you were not going to hurt him. That I would give you one day's head start." Arthon stuttered, regret in his voice.

"Enjoy your time in prison." Herenvarno growled and took Arthon's sword from its scabbard and jammed the handle into his temple.

Arthon's body hit the ground, and Sirya screamed at the top of his lungs, his body tense and prepared for his Atar's blows.

Herenvarno scowled. Arthon was too soft. It had been all too easy.

"Please," Sirya sobbed, screaming again as Herenvarno dragged him toward the forest, his hand clamped over Sirya's mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please review!


	17. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legolas and Emarth nearly die searching for Sirya...

"Hir nin," Amrahil whispered, shaking Legolas gently. He was Emarth's second, and the sight of the prince sleeping was quite jarring for him. He'd only ever seen the royal family put together and ready for anything. Seeing Legolas so vulnerable- he respected Emarth's strength.

Legolas moaned, stitches pulling at his side.

"Hir nin, It is Sirya-"

Legolas' eyes flew open, and met Amrahil's fearful ones. He looked as if he expected Legolas to bite him. Where was Emarth?

"What of him?"

"He is gone-"

Legolas stood, pain shooting through his side. "Gone?"

"Last night Emarth was poisoned and dragged behind a plant. He is awake now, and seeing Telion. Laina saw Sirya leave with Arthon."

Legolas began to pull clothes on, his heart pounding. His mind was quiet, though. A quiet sanctuary of denial. Sirya was fine, of course he was. He would find him.

"Where is Baineth?"

"She has gone to look for Sirya. She believed she could catch him before they got terribly far. She asked me to wake you."

Legolas cursed, "Wake my father."

"Yes, sir."

Legolas threw on his boots and his cloak. He put his hair in a messy ponytail and held his torn side, his teeth ground together. He went out into the hall, his eyes wide with the bustle of the hall.

"Ready my horse!" He called and a new recruit, Rengel, nodded and ran off.

Amrahil cleared his throat beside him, his hand on the King's doorknob. "Sir. Your injury-"

"I do not care!" Legolas cried, which made the guards freeze before they scurried away.

"My son is gone and you think it best to allow me to sleep?" He roared to no one in particular. Amrahil shriveled and opened the king's door with a shaking hand. Legolas rushed to the barn, his horse startled by his sudden approach.

He pat her coat soothingly, and soon Emarth, Amrahil, Rengel, and Thranduil were at his side, saddling their horses as well.

"I was under the assumption that you were very ill," Legolas said to Emarth. He was pallid, his skin a strange tone of grey.

"I was under the assumption that you were as well," he replied.

Legolas looked over his second, and nodded appreciatively, which Emarth returned with understanding. He loved Sirya like a younger brother, he wouldn't idly stand by. Emarth had one of the patrol's face masks on, stained with blood from his coughing.

"Head west, we will go east. Baineth has gone south," Legolas said and Thranduil nodded as he hopped on his horse. His father looked regal, even with fear marring his fine features. He nodded to his son, and was gone. Thranduil's entire guard went out with him. Legolas had a dozen or so guards, riding several feet from one another in a horizontal line, shouting Sirya's name. They rode through the night and into the next morning, their shouts falling to occasional, half-hearted cries. Legolas was dizzy and in incredible pain, but ignored it entirely to search for Sirya. His feä was torn, hopelessness settling. What did Herenvarno have that prevented him from being tracked? They rode until the horses needed rest, and returned the following morning as the sun rose, no sign of Sirya to be found.

"My Lord," Legolas turned. It was the prison lieutenant. "Arthon. We have found him in your absence."

Arthon was awake when Legolas returned, and he tried to remain calm when he entered his cell. He was already sobbing, ugly red streaks marred his cheeks. His hair was a matted mess, and he fell to his knees before Legolas, his head bent.

"Hir nin," he sobbed, and his head touched Legolas' thigh.

"You told the guards that you were attacked, but we both know that is not the truth." Legolas ground between his teeth, his head level. He focused his gaze at the wall. "You are one of the best. So tell me, Arthon, how you lost my son."

"Hir nin-"

Legolas slammed the back of his hand into Arthon's cheek. He made no sound, and didn't move to touch his cheek. Legolas turned away, his anger had gotten away from him.

"I was going to catch Herenvarno and track him, and save Sirya. To regain my position." Arthon whispered. Legolas opened his eyes, and rotated slowly to face his former friend.

"Where has he taken him?" Legolas murmured.

"I do not know, he did not tell me any of his plans, Legolas-"

"You dare to address me so informally?" Legolas roared. How could he sell off a child, for his own position? Sirya had already been through so much, how could he allow him to come to harm? He would revert back to how he had been, years of progress would be gone... Legolas swiped the water jug off of the table and it hit the wall, spraying Arthon.

"You endangered an elfling, a blind elfling, for your own gain. I have never before been more thoroughly revolted by the sight of an elf in my life. You saw him out there, in that ravine where he was found. You were the one to find him, and you were the one to return him to danger! Get comfortable, Arthon. Here you shall remain until the walls crumble around you!" Arthon screamed, shaking his head. His matted hair fell into his eyes. Legolas slammed the cell door.

"He is not to speak to anyone. Not a guard. There shall be no visitors. Only my father and myself." The guard nodded and Legolas stormed away, Arthon's throat tearing screams echoed the dungeon.

After a restless attempt at sleep Telion drugged him, so he could get a few hours rest before he rode out again. He rode every morning that week, Emarth and Amrahil faithfully at his side. They'd searched a different part of the forest each day. However, Emarth and Legolas grew weaker with each day, but none dared to stop them on their search. Legolas' wound grew infected, and stitches had been pulled and stretched. Thranduil had searched several days, but eventually became more of a hindrance than a help. He required a large party to protect him, a party that could spread out and search in pairs instead of watching over the king. He stayed behind and worried, and spent many restless night up writing to Elrond about his troubles.

That week passed, with no sign of Sirya found but a piece of rope and some hair found near a tree. Baineth had not returned either, and Legolas began to worry about her as well. Every night he took a sleeping draught, just to get a few hours of rest.

As days passed with no evidence of a child in the forest, Legolas grew resigned. But he continued to search despite the feeling in his heart... that Sirya was gone. He would never give up looking. Never give up hope that Sirya would be returned to him. He kept expecting him to walk in, his beautiful hair billowing behind him, yammering on about something Emarth had shown him. His beautiful blue eyes reflecting his mirth back at him. But his suite remained silent and empty. There was a knock, and Legolas was shaken from his reverie.

"Yes?" He called, his voice gravelly and sharp.

Emarth entered, and behind him, Baineth.

She'd lost weight, and dark circles were under her eyes.

"Baineth-" he breathed and stood. Emarth closed the door behind him, and she looked at the floor.

"I could not find him…" she whispered. "There was nothing. No trace of him, no clue left behind."

"Nor could I," Legolas said.

She embraced him, her arms shaking. "Oh Legolas-"

Legolas fell into her arms, his own grief and fear pouring from his locked heart.

"I have failed him…" Legolas whispered, pressure behind his eyes made way to his tears.

"You have not, I have. I left him. I should have stayed, I should have brought him with me."

"I am certain everyone is blaming themselves," Thranduil said, standing in the door frame. "However, the two of you will die if you continue on the way you have."

Thranduil hadn't rested much himself, and he looked exhausted. "You both sound like Emarth."

"Emarth?"

"He blames himself. He was responsible for Sirya that night."

Legolas shook his head, and wiped Baineth's tears with his thumbs. Her green eyes were full of regret.

"We must find him. We cannot leave him to suffer."

Legolas nodded, tears in his eyes. They had to.

Another week passed with nothing to show for it. No rock was left unturned, and not a single hair from Sirya's head was to be found. The elite guard was called off of the search to help train new recruits from the academy. Legolas was near to giving up hope. They would be leagues from Mirkwood, integrated into another wild in a far off land. Baineth left her job at the orphanage. Although Legolas had wished for her to, he didn't want it to be under those circumstances. He did not want it to be because she was fading. And fading she was... until the horns had been blown. Legolas knew the horn. It was the warning horn for an intruder. An intruder. Legolas dashed down the stairs and out to his horse. Soldiers and members of the guard dashed through the courtyard, shouting commands. They were mounting horses and leaving, hurrying toward the source of the alarm.

"The western village," Emarth called, chasing after him. Legolas leapt onto his horse, and was moving before Emarth could get on his. He was behind him a moment later, coughing violently. The western village was very close by. The closest to the kingdom by far. How could he possibly be there? many of the guards had combed that area on several occasions. He couldnt possibly be there. Perhaps it was a simple misunderstanding, and the pounding of his heart was all for naught. When Legolas arrived the guards were shouting and pointing, villagers watched with terrified curiosity nearby. The captain of the guard for the village, Aegnon, ran over to him.

"Hir nin, the fugitive, he is here-"

"Where's Sirya?"

"Heis not here, my lord-" Legolas' ears rushed, and he stomped through the village to their guard station. Herenvarno was tied up, his nose bloody. His head was hung, and his grotesque black hair hung in greasy strands and curtained his mud scraped features. His clothing hung off of him in rags. It was as if an older, evil Sirya sat before him. Legolas shivered. Herenvarno looked up at him, his eyes hooded.

"Hir nin-" he began.

"Silence. Speak only about my son."

Herenvarno grinned, and Legolas' heart was pounding. What if he were dead? Herenvarno's smile faded.

"I came here, because he ran off. I came to ask that you to find him. I cannot. I have searched for days, and he will die if he is alone in this terrible forest. You must find him, Legolas. I did not wish for this to happen. I did not intend to hurt him."

Legolas stared at him, his rage converted to horror.

"Where were you when he ran?" He asked, his mouth dry.

"Less than a league from here, near the river."

Legolas turned to Aegnon. "Create a perimeter, two leagues around the site of disappearance." Aegnon nodded, and Legolas ran from the station, and onto his horse. The villagers gasped, and Emarth's horse reared in anticipation. They rode until dusk, screaming Sirya's name. Emarth joined in, yelling until his body grew too tired. The sun was falling behind the tree line, and Legolas closed his eyes. Where would Sirya be? He would never cross the river... The oak. Legolas had told him never to panic. To sit under a tree and wait. He turned back toward the tree line, searching for a shadow, a lock of hair in the wind... Legolas saw movement in the corner of his eye. Sirya.

He was sitting at the base of a tree, his head against the trunk. Sirya's face was covered in bruises and cuts, blood running down his neck. His hands were tied together and tears were all that cut through the dirt and blood caked onto his face. He sensed them, and rose. Legolas turned to Emarth, shocked. It was as if he were ghost. Sirya staggered and fell, and flinched when he heard the horses neigh.

"Sirya!" Emarth called, but he stumbled and fell, running away from them as fast as his weakened body could carry him.

Legolas got off his horse and dashed toward him, his abdomen bleeding beneath his tunic.

"Sirya!" Legolas cried and grabbed his arm. Sirya screamed, falling to the ground, his hands over his head.

"It's me! It is Legolas!" Legolas begged and pulled him towards him, "It's alright!"

Sirya sobbed and fell into Legolas' arms, his sobs echoing the forest. He screamed in Legolas' grasp, relief and pain in his throat. Legolas rested his hand on the back of his head.

"You are safe now, I'm here." Legolas whispered, kissing his face. "It's ok, it's alright."

Legolas kissed his hair repeatedly, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I love you, Sirya," he cried, and his fingers dug into Legolas' arm. He would never let him out of his sight again. Sirya sobbed and sobbed, and Legolas carried him back to the horses. Emarth took Sirya from Legolas and he cried out, flailing. Legolas' arms felt more empty than they ever had.

"It is alright, it's Emarth. I am right here, Legolas is right here. He cannot carry you any longer, that is all."

He nodded with a sharp whine, and Emarth cradled him against him. They rode back to the western village to regroup with the rest of the guard. Herenvarno could be heard yelling, his hands shackled together as they dragged him from the guard station. Sirya was hysterical again at the sound of his voice. Herenvarno began shouting in quenya his tone sharp and crude. The guards began shouting at him in sindarin.

"Be silent!" Emarth roared, silencing the forest. His eyes were angry and cruel. He was finished with his nonsense. His hands cradled Sirya's head against his chest. He passed him to Legolas.

"I will take care of this," Emarth mumbled to Legolas.

"Let's go home, meleth nin." Legolas murmured, Sirya screaming in his arms.

"It's ok, it's alright," he soothed, and turned to Emarth. "Arrest him. Listen to him not." Legolas said in westron. Emarth nodded, and ran his hand over Sirya's head.

"Take him home."

Legolas nodded, and with a tap his horse took off, Legolas' urgency in his grasp. It was a short ride, but Sirya's screaming made it feel like hours. He was going to pass out if he continued on.

"It's alright Sirya," Legolas said as the rode up to the courtyard, and Telion ran toward them as he got off the horse.

"Sirya," Thranduil gasped, a blanket-wrapped Baineth sobbed in his arms.

"My baby!" She cried and ran over, embracing both Sirya and Legolas.

"Naneth!" he cried, a handful of hair in his hand. Baineth looked up at Legolas sharply. He was grasping everything. He was in pain.

"You're safe, it's alright," Legolas said, curling him into his chest to muffle his cries. They rushed him to the healing wing, whereTelion and Legolas lay him down on the table. They cut the remaining rope from his hands.

"His face, there's a thorn implanted into his arm-" Telion tried to talk to his assistant, but Sirya was hysterical.

"Ion nin," Legolas cried and took his face in his hands. "Be still. You are here with me and your daeradar, and your nana, you are safe, and everything is alright now. Be still, meleth nin, do not cry-" he stroked the tears from his face.

"Adar-" he sobbed, "I thought I would never see you again."

"I would never let that happen. Be still now, I am going to take care of you."

He sobbed harder, and raked his fingers over his head, tearing hair from his scalp. "The pain!" he screamed, his legs drawn up under him.

"Telion!" Baineth cried, and Legolas tore Sirya's hands from his head.

"MAKE IT STOP!" Sirya's nose began to bleed, and Loth looked at Telion, who stared at Legolas with terrible stillness.

"I cannot, Legolas-" he whispered.

"You must!"

"I cannot!" he cried, and Loth squeezed his shoulder.

"Get me a scalpel."


	18. Time Heals Some Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirya undergoes his surgery.

Telion's eyes searched Loth's face for any kind of His determination was clear in the silent glower of his light eyes.

"No, Loth, we have not done it prior. Lord Elrond-"

"Lord Elrond is not here," Loth hissed. Although his tone was harsh, he was shaking violently. "He will die. He has begun to hemorrhage already," He cried, gesturing to the blood all over Legolas' hand from Sirya's bleeding nose.

"Take time to read, at the very least," Telion urged him.

"You should, you are the leader-"

"I cannot, Loth," Telion squeezed him arm. There were tears frozen in Telion's eyes, and his lip was quivering. Loth nodded. He knew what had happened when he had been Lord Elrond's apprentice. "Give me fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes to review some research."

Legolas nodded solemnly. Sirya gasped through his pain, his eyes wide. Blood was smeared all over his face from dragging his hands over it repeatedly in agony. Loth rushed from the room, and Telion slipped out silently after him. Legolas lifted Sirya into his arms, and Thranduil sat next to Baineth in the windowsill. Legolas sat down in the chair by the door, and held Sirya in his arms. He was nearly as tall as Legolas, but he managed to curl him up in his hold. His breathing was shallow, and tears streamed continuously from his eyes.

"It's going to be alright, meleth nin," Legolas whispered, tears falling onto the boy's face. He said nothing, his mouth opened and closed like a dying fish. What would he be like after, if he lived? Would he speak? Hear? Walk? See? What if he lost them all, and was trapped in his own body? Legolas brushed his hand over his head, thinking of what was going on within. There was war. There was blood and damage and pain, yes. But what had gone on? Three weeks he'd lived in the forest with his estranged father. Did he hurt him? Feed him? Help him? Legolas kissed him head gently. One of the assistants gave him a cloth to hold to Sirya's nose to catch the blood. He wiped his face with it and Sirya cried out.

"I know, I am sorry," Legolas whispered. "I'm so, so sorry."

"The pain."

There was no sound, but Legolas knew the silent plea his bloodied lips formed.

"I know, I know, Loth is going to help you ion nin, he is coming. Just rest, try to rest."

Sirya was quiet, and held tightly onto Legolas shirt. Baineth slipped out for a moment, leaving Legolas and Thranduil. Thranduil was a vision of peace. He had centuries of practice hiding his emotions. He'd seen the first age, which had been so dark, he regularly woke with nightmares of it. Thranduil was as distraught as his soon, but he kept it carefully hidden. He watched Sirya, and kept his eyes on Legolas. Both were of concern, and Thranduil worried about Legolas holding him. After a time Legolas stood, clearly sore, and Sirya began to cry again.

"Stop, it is alright," Legolas whispered, terrified. It had been longer than fifteen minutes. What if Loth changed heart? Thranduil sensed his son's failing courage and took Sirya from him. He firmly supported Sirya's neck like a newborn, and sat down in the chair.

"Deep breaths," Thranduil said, rocking in the chair with care, "You are to be just fine. Soon you shall be running about again in the fields with Emarth. I know you are in great pain, but trust your Adar and your Daeradar. We are going to take care of you."

Sirya was seemingly comforted by his words, or perhaps simply by the sound of his voice. Legolas wasn't sure how lucid he was. But Sirya grew still and responsive to Thranduil's gentle tone and touch, quietly waiting for Loth's return.

Loth skimmed through a book on the brain, memorizing the descriptions and symptoms of injury. The regions and points that had been studied. There was so little to go on. His hands shook, and his mind was whirred. He'd never done a surgery on someone's brain. It was sensitive and easy to injure, even for the most practiced healer. He could single handedly murder Sirya. All he had to do was make the incision too deep, or too far in either direction. He could render him paralyzed or deaf or unable to process language. He could have convulsions for the rest of his life, or have an entirely different personality. All based on Loth's decision. He choked back a sob, his head in his hands. He'd never made such a decision. He'd never been so pressured. He loved Legolas and the royal family. They were his family as well. He heard the door to his office open and he didn't turn his head. Baineth. She sat at his desk. He didn't move, his head still in his quaking hands.

"Loth," She murmured.

"Yes?" He shook and turned the page of the medical book.

"We never dreamt of putting this responsibility on any healer here. Everyone in Mirkwood is close to Sirya, too emotionally involved. But he needs you now. He believes in you, and so do Legolas and I."

"That is what makes this difficult," he responded coolly.

"I know," She nodded, "But you are his best chance. You spoke to Elrond about the surgery. Telion is hysterical. We believe in your judgement."

"I could kill him. Or cause any other number of pleasant outcomes."

"All that Sirya needs, is your best. He will die a slow and painful death if you do not help him. This way, if he does pass, it is in the hands of someone who tried everything to save him. It is an impossible task. We are all aware of that fact. But it is an impossible task that could save that poor child's life."

Loth sighed, and she took his hands in hers. He met her warm grey eyes.

"We are here for you, as you always are for us."

He looked up at her. Her eyes were red from restrained tears, and her fea was exhausted.

"I am ready."

Baineth slipped back into the examination room, and Sirya stirred in Thranduil's arms.

"Nana-" he whispered, and she knelt before him.

"I'm here, meleth nin. Rest," she whispered and kissed his forehead. She looked up at Thranduil, tears in her eyes, "He is preparing."

Loth pulled his surgeon's gown on, and Telion tied it for him. Telion was to act as his assistant, helping him and offering him guidance where he could. Telion tied Loth's gold hair back with a firm tie, and ensured all of it was away from his face. There was an eerie, pregnant silence that hung over the other healers that watched him prepare like a soldier preparing for battle. Loth washed his hands thoroughly, and Telion tied a cloth around his face. Loth was shaking, and met Telion's eyes with unadulterated horror.

"You will do well," Telion whispered, and cupped Loth's face in his hands.

"Have you done pre op?"

Telion gave him a stiff shake, "not yet."

"Do so," Loth said, meeting his eyes with cold determination. An assistant healer pulled Telion's hair back for him, and helped him put on his gown and face mask before he washed his hands as well.

"And put him under. I am just about ready."

Telion nodded, and left him to do so. Legolas flinched when the door opened, and Baineth stood.

"Sirya, Loth is going to help you now, your nana and I will be right here when you wake," Legolas said, and tried to hide the fear in his voice.

"If I do not," Sirya whispered, blood dripping down his cheek, "I love you."

Telion placed the cloth soaked in sleeping herbs over his nose and mouth. Once he was asleep he took a small knife from the assistant. He turned Sirya onto his stomach, and cut Sirya's hair from the side of his head, all the way to the back, leaving only the top and left side's population of hair. Legolas mournfully watched the locks of his hair tumble to the marble floor.

"Legolas-" Thranduil had his hand out to his son. Legolas hated to leave. It could be the final time… Loth entered followed by several assistants. Legolas had never seen him look so mournful. Loth nodded, only his eyes visible above the cotton mask.

"You should go. I will send for you when I have finished."

Legolas allowed Thranduil to lead him from the room. Now was the time. Sirya lay on the cold metal table, the brightest light available shining on his freshly shaven head. Loth recalled finding the child, how beautiful he was.

"I-"

The staff looked up at him, his hesitation igniting the nerves in the others. He remembered Baineth's words, and took a deep breath. He steeled himself, forcing his mind to forget he knew the patient. He put out his hand.

"Scalpel."

Legolas and Baineth as well as Thranduil sat in Legolas' sitting room, and stared at the wall. They were all deep in their own thoughts, concerns. How would Sirya be?

"Herenvarno," Thranduil said, "Was informed of Sirya's aneurysm."

Legolas nodded, trying to remain stable in his actions. His stomach was clenching and unclenching with panic. His feä was waiting for the crushing pain of Sirya's death each moment.

"Legolas," Thranduil said quietly. "You cannot feel as you do when we go to see him after. You will certainly scare him."

"I cannot help it."

"I have faith in Loth. He will be just fine."

"You cannot know."

"But I do," Thranduil said, his blue eyes twinkling.

Legolas lay in Baineth's arms on his bed for the following hours, letting her stroke his hair. Few words passed between them in the seemingly endless stretch of time. The sun slowly sunk over the horizon, and the servants entered to light candles and fireplaces as needed. Legolas held Baineth close, his face hidden in her hair. Everyone felt so fragile, suddenly. Tomorrow, she could fall and suffer the same fate. It wouldn't take much to tear his entire family from him in the blink of an eye. Legolas didn't know how Thranduil lived with the sights he had seen. When he was barely of age, Thranduil witnessed the grotesque murder of a majority of his people on several occasions. His family, friends, mentors, teachers- gone. Violently torn from his life before his eyes, in the land he loved. And he had seen it three times before he moved to Greenwood, where he would witness the death of his people yet again, including his father, who died in his arms. The strength of his father never ceased to amaze him.

"I'm sorry" Legolas whispered.

"For what?" She ran her hand through his hair.

"If I hadn't pursued you-"

"Are you apologizing for loving me?"

Legolas sighed, and she kissed the side of his head.

"I love you and Sirya and Thranduil with all of my being. I would not take it back for all of Arda."

"It has taken many hours," he whispered.

"These things do, unfortunately," She said.

He could sense that she was blocking it. Pretending that it wasn't happening. He ignored it, and continued to stroke her hair. It was her way, and his was talking about it endlessly for hours, he supposed.

There was a knock and they both jumped.

"Enter," He called weakly. Emarth.

"He is finished. Loth wishes to see you."

They dashed to the healing wing, and Loth's surgeon's gown was covered in blood, black in places. Telion pulled it off of him, and he untied his mask.

"He is alive," Loth said with a nod. He was pale, and his eyes were red. "I found the bleeding and successfully drained it. Now we simply hope it will reduce the swelling."

Legolas nodded, his heart pound so hard it impaired his breathing.

"He will be asleep for quite a while. We will keep him here to watch over him."

"What is it you're holding back?" Legolas asked.

Loth sighed and wiped his forehead with his arm. "When he wakes, I- I do not know how he will be. Even best case scenario, he is going to be like an infant for quite a while."

Legolas crossed the distance between them and embraced him. Loth stiffened, and then returned the embrace. "Thank you. Thank you for all that you have done. Words cannot express how grateful I am."

"It may have been for nothing," Loth whispered.

"Regardless. Your bravery is unprecedented."

Loth closed his eyes, his heart pounding through his thin tunic. "You can see him if you would like."

Legolas nodded, and Baineth grabbed his hand. Within the examination room, Sirya lay on the table, a cloth over the side of his head. There was a blanket draped over him, where his bare chest lie exposed to the air. He was incredibly pale, and Legolas simply stared. He looked as if he were inches from death.

"Oh my-" he held back tears. Baineth was crying already, her sobs muffled by her hand in front of her mouth. Legolas turned to Emarth, who stood in the doorframe with horrified eyes.

"My Adar-" Legolas choked and Emarth nodded and ran back toward the Royal wing. Legolas walked over to Sirya slowly, as if he were a rabid animal.

"He will need you like you have never experienced before," Loth said quietly, "Starting now."

Thranduil entered shortly after, and visibly paled at the sight of Sirya.

"Adar-" Legolas shook, and Thranduil pulled him into his arms.

"He is going to be just fine. He is strong, like his Ada. With our help, he will become stronger than ever before."

Legolas cried. He cried and cried in his father's arms like an elfling. His son... Thranduil held him close, and Loth turned away, tears falling down his own cheeks. What had he done? What if he rendered him worse than before?

"Look at him," Legolas sobbed.

"He has just had surgery Legolas, you did not look any better after you returned with your bite."

Legolas turned to face Sirya, his hand gently stroking the side of his head. "

"Sirya." He whispered, his tears falling. He felt lightheaded, and turned to his father.

"You need to rest," Thranduil said sharply and Loth spun around.

"When is the last time Telion checked on your stitches?" Loth asked.

"I- he-" Legolas whispered, and Thranduil caught him before he hit the ground.

"There is a room free over here."

Thranduil carried him across the hall, and Loth dressed his infected wound.

"He has been neglecting this." He said with annoyed exhaustion.

"I' will watch him," Thranduil said, "and so shall Baineth."

"He shall be next on the operating table if he does not keep it clean and rest often. He has not allowed it to heal."

Thranduil nodded, lightheaded himself. He couldn't juggle them both. Legolas couldn't be trusted to rest, even though it would give Sirya time to rest as well. Baineth would help keep Legolas in check, but she was just as distraught. He turned to look at Loth, tear tracks lead down his cheeks, away from crimson coated eyes.

"Rest," Thranduil said to Loth. "Please."

Loth didn't fight with him, and pulled his hair from its ponytail. "I will return in a few hours to check in."

"I am sure Telion can handle it for a time, please Loth, get some sleep."

Loth bowed and left the room, staggering toward the healer's station in the back of the healing wing. Telion watched him, and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Sleep," he murmured.

"I have failed," Loth coughed, and Telion lead him to the spare bed and pushed him to sit. tucked him in

"No, you have not failed," he soothed and pulled his boots from his feet. he led him to lie down and spread a blanket over him.

"Be at peace."


	19. Some Hurts Do Not Heal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirya improves, but other aspects of Legolas' life worsen.

For three days, Sirya didn't stir. He didn't blink, he didn't twitch; he didn't move a muscle. He lay in silence. His family coddled him in blankets and pillows from home, and took turns sitting with him for hours at a time. Baineth and Thranduil took turns sitting with Legolas in his bed, ensuring he got the rest he needed as well. Legolas' wound was of much concern to Telion, while Loth was preoccupied with Sirya. Loth hadn't slept since the surgery, and spent most of his free time nursing the bottle of wine the King gave him once many years ago. He hadn't expected Sirya to be unconscious for that long, and feared a coma. He'd had patients slip into coma after severe head injury in the past, and none had recovered.

Loth had no family. They had perished in a fire when they had lived in the forest. He had a brother, but his brother lived in Lothlorien, and rarely visited. He could certainly use his support now.

Telion watched him from the doorway, as Loth poured himself another glass of wine at his desk.

"Legolas' needs his wound cleaned," Telion said and Loth jumped and spilled his wine.

"You could knock," Loth barked.

Telion knocked sarcastically on the open door.

Loth sighed and put his glass down on his desk angrily, wiping at the wine on his tunic.

"Now I will appear to have been drinking on the job."

"You have been, and if I were an authority figure with actual authority, you would be in trouble."

Loth rolled his eyes. Loth and Telion had trained together and lived together for their apprenticeship.

"Go clean Legolas' wound," Telion said dismissively, his eyes trained on a long thread that sat on his shoulder. He picked at it.

"Why should I and not you? I am watching over Sirya," Loth protested.

"You are drinking, not working. I shall watch Sirya. Go and see to Legolas."

"Telion-"

"I will not watch you wallow in self-pity. Give me rest from your pathetic sight, and go see to Legolas. What? Are you fearful Legolas will scold you as well?"

Loth groaned and pushed past him, grabbing his bag off the chair as he made his way to the door. He stalked up the stairs to the Royal wing. To be honest, Loth was afraid Legolas would bring up Sirya. He'd been avoiding the royal family since the surgery. Loth's answer to every question would be I don't know, and that wasn't an answer he liked to give.

Loth knocked and eyed the watching guard with open annoyance. Baineth opened the door.

"I am here to scrape pus, like the servant I am."

"Nice to see you too," Legolas called from the bed. Baineth smirked and moved aside to let him in. Legolas looked bad, very bad, and Loth was surprised. His eyebrows knit together.

"What have you done to yourself?"

Legolas cursed, "Did you come to help me or to scold me? Because you do not look great yourself, and I can smell the wine on you from here."

Loth blinked, and nodded with a shrug, "Fair enough."

He pulled stretches of cotton cloth from his bag and rinsed them in the basin. There was a moment of awkward silence. Baineth had her eyes closed, her head leaned back on the chair. She looked far thinner than she had, and her eyes were dull and tired. Loth pulled Legolas' nightshirt up, and the wound was angry and eating at Legolas' side. Dried blood and pus were frozen where they dripped from the wound, and Legolas looked away from Loth shamefully.

"Legolas," Loth whispered.

"I've heard it from Telion," Legolas said quietly, his eyes trained on Baineth.

"This is not to be played with. Do you know what is next? I will have to cut this wound from you. Will you enjoy that?" Loth barked.

"What do I care?" He growled.

"Legolas," Loth ground between his teeth. "That child is going to need you when he wakes. You will be useless to him if you are bedridden yourself."

"He may not wake," Legolas retorted. Regret filled his eyes immediately after.

Baineth watched with tears in her eyes. "Legolas," she said quietly, "I do not wish to hear you say that again." He stared at her, his anger melted to shame. "He is depending on us to be strong for him. I cannot care for him alone."

Legolas nodded, "I am sorry," he whispered to Loth. "Please help."

Loth swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He scrubbed the blood and pus from Legolas' side and lay the hot cloth over the wound to draw more fluid from it.

"I am terribly sorry," Legolas said again. "Please."

"It is alright," Loth said.

"How is Emarth?" Legolas tried.

Loth smirked, "better than you are. He sleeps a little and actually takes his medicine."

Legolas pawed at him playfully, and Loth suddenly wished to cry. He didn't know why, but it might have been the alcohol, or the sight of Legolas half dead, or perhaps the nearly dead child on his examination table, or the guard he'd patched up far too many times.

"I am worried about you," Legolas said softly.

Loth scoffed. "I am worried about you. I, on the contrary, do not have an apparent death wish."

"You are not well. You are making yourself ill over this," Legolas said quietly.

"I assure you I am not," Loth defended.

"You are."

Loth stared at him, "I am alright."

"No matter what happens," Legolas said with a nod, "what you did was admirable. I cannot imagine how hard that was for you. Please, Loth. Do not let it eat away at you. Tíro nin. Savo amdir." (Look at me. Have hope)

Loth cursed Telion. He knew that Legolas would see through him. That Legolas would destroy his façade. Loth swallowed his tears. He wanted to talk about it... But it was Legolas' son. Legolas wouldn't want to hear about how terrible it had been to cut into someone's head. What it was like to hope he had bled the child in the correct spot.

"We have elected you and Emarth for the King's Crest," Legolas murmured.

Loth stared at Legolas, his heart pounding. The King's Crest was incredibly rare. No one alive in the kingdom currently had one. It was a pure gold and white diamond branch attached to fine ribbon that was awarded to the bravest and most admirable leaders in the land.

"Legolas, I do not deserve it," Loth said quickly with a brisk shake of his head.

"Yes, you do. I do not want to hear of it."

"I do not, Legolas. I have not done anything. I decline," He said again with a firm shake. "I cut into a child's head blindly, that is not heroic."

"You did what no one else could in the face of your own fears. It was not blind, I know Elrond spoke to you about it in the event this happened. It is for everything you have done in the face of adversity for Mirkwood."

Loth's silent tears fell and Legolas pulled him weakly against his chest.

"We are hoping to conduct the ceremony next summer, so Sirya can pin the badge on your chest," Legolas murmured, and stroked Loth's hair.

Loth sobbed, and struggled to hold back. He'd been beating himself up for days over the fate of this child. Over destroying Legolas and Baineth. He realized now that Legolas and Baineth would grieve, but they would be ok. They were there to support one another, and they would support him. He was not alone. Legolas wiped his own tears, stunned to see Loth show any emotion at all aside from sarcasm. Loth sat up, peeling the wet cloth that had been on Legolas' wound from his tunic with a chuckle. Legolas laughed and squeezed his shoulder. Loth wiped his tears, and his eyes met Baineth's kind gaze. Loth wiped Legolas' wound and bandaged it.

"I will send word if anything changes. Please sleep."

Legolas nodded and Loth was walked out by Baineth.

"Come by, Loth. Whenever you wish. Not just to scrape pus. You are not a servant, not to us."

He smiled and embraced her, "you are far too kind for such a nasty prince."

She laughed, but her gaze was caught by Telion, who was running toward them.

"Sirya is awake," He cried.

Legolas, Baineth, and Thranduil ran down as soon as they could. Loth went down with them, his heart in his throat. When they arrived Sirya was breathing quickly, and Telion was dripping herbs into his mouth. Loth touched his face, panic and relief dancing through his stomach.

"He is seemingly comprehending what I am saying, but it could just be an autonomous response to familiar stimuli," Telion said quickly.

Loth nodded, "Sirya," he said quietly. Sirya's mouth opened silently, and he grunted weakly. Loth waved Legolas over and he put his hand on his chest, rubbing it gently.

"Sirya," he whispered, and Sirya turned his head slightly, and winced. "It is alright. I am here."

Loth put his head in his hands, and tears of relief moistened his eyes.

Legolas rubbed Sirya's chest in gentle circles.

"I cannot promise he understands you," Loth said quietly. "He is comforted by your words, however."

The thought pained Legolas. Sirya may not have even known who he was. He just knew he was familiar.

Legolas stroked Sirya's cheek with the back of his hand, and Sirya turned his head into the gentle comfort.

"The herbs will ease his pain, which may lull him into sleep again. But he is conscious, and on the road to recovery."

Legolas smiled, and looked back to Baineth with tears in his eyes. Baineth wiped her eyes, and sat in the chair next to Legolas, talking quietly to him.

Sirya slept for the rest of the day, his hand curled around Legolas' finger. Legolas was later carried to bed by Thranduil with gentle protests from his exhausted lips. Baineth slept over with Legolas again that night, as she had every night since Sirya had vanished. In the next few days, Loth decided that talking to Baineth and Thranduil will be easier than talking to Legolas. He interrupted them the following day when they went down to the healing wing to visit Sirya while Legolas slept.

"I believe after this week, he can go home. The familiar smells and feeling of his bed, hearing your voices in the room next door, will help him."

"When will we know if he is... lucid," Thranduil murmured.

"You will know. Within the next few weeks he should give us a hint, but right now his body is battling to heal something that is so difficult to heal. His mind is not worried about anything else right now." Baineth was stroking Sirya's cheek, and he had a faint smile on his face. In the healing wing he sat for the following few days and stayed awake longer each day. Sirya didn't speak, he didn't nod or acknowledge questions. They tried to feed him, but he wouldn't swallow any food he was given. He listened to his parents sing and speak to him, and would occasionally open his eyes. Loth assured them, however, that he was still blind. Loth came up to check on him several times a day and stayed with Sirya the day that Herenvarno and Arthon's trial was to commence.

Herenvarno stood before them in the courtroom alongside Arthon. Arthon's face was splotchy and tear stained, his eyes red and watery from constant hysteria. Herenvarno was serene. He was the eye of the storm. The courtroom was empty, aside from the royal family and the judge's panel. It was a private trial, for privacy reasons. Thranduil, Legolas, and Baineth were not participating in the trial, as they were biased. Although Thranduil still had the final say as King.

Arthon and Herenvarno had their feet shackled to the ground in the center of the round room. Conducting the trial was the General of Defense. Arthon had never even see him before. He was always behind closed doors, attending to the King. He placed every soldier, every guard.

"Here we stand," the general began, and the court stood aside from the royal family in the balcony.

"At the charging of Herenvarno and Arthon Verenion for the abduction of Sirya, the prince's adopted son."

Herenvarno sneered. The general always had the face of someone who always had something better to do but glared impatiently at Herenvarno.

"Collectively, charges include abduction, treason on three counts, attempted murder, assault, endangering a child, enticement, levying war, espionage, and depending on the outcome of the child in question's surgery and recovery, murder." Legolas visibly flinched, and Baineth wiped at tears with a cotton handkerchief. Arthon sobbed openly at the charges read before him, and Herenvarno glared at him.

"I must say," the General said with a sigh, "I have never read off such charges in my time. It continues to surprise me, mainly due to your credentials, Arthon. Before the age of one hundred, you graduated two years ahead, top of your class. Expert swordsman, marksman, and martial artist. You were originally charged a decade ago for endangering and harassing the prince's first officer. Herenvarno, however, I am not surprised. You participated in the first kinslaying at Alqualonde, lived in Nargothrond until its fall, then you went on to live in Sirion. After which, you migrated to Eregion, Rivendell, and then the outskirts of Greenwood the Great. Your wife died in childbirth of your second son, Sirya, your oldest was killed by spiders. Correct?"

Legolas looked at his father, who returned his gaze equally disturbed. Baineth looked at Herenvarno, something strange in her eyes. A terrible fear, something Legolas had never seen on Baineth in the past. Herenvarno was looking straight at her, a smirk on his lips.

"Baineth?" He said, and she stood. Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were wide.

The general opened his mouth, "No dhínen!" (Be silent)

Herenvarno didn't hear him. His clear eyes dilated with recognition. "How fares your husband, Elenwe?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	20. I'm not made of stone, it hurts

Legolas stared at Herenvarno, the noldo's expression smug. He was clearly delighted with his announcement. Legolas broke his gaze and turned, but Baineth was already gone. Legolas searched his father's face for surprise, but there was none. Legolas sat through the remaining trial, but not a single word found his consciousness. Both elves were returned to their cells for sentencing the following week. The very moment the courtroom was dismissed Legolas sprung to his feet.

Thranduil grabbed his arm, his eyes worried, "Tread carefully. There is a reason she did not tell you."

The anger in Legolas' heart stilled. Society was unkind to elvish women previously married.

"You knew?"

Thranduil nodded once, his gaze full of regret.

"I wished for you both to be happy. Not concerned with what is gone."

Legolas left his father in the courtroom, and with a heavy heart made his way to the royal wing. At least, he hoped she would be back at the Royal wing. Married? Baineth? Maybe Herenvarno was lying. But she didn't appear to be upset because he was lying. She appeared to be upset that he had said it.

She was nowhere to be found anywhere in the royal wing. None of the guards had seen her pass, and he was suddenly worried. What was going on? Where could she have possible gone?

The garden.

He dashed through the hall and down the back stairs to the royal garden. The sun poured out onto the patio, and the ivy that scaled the wall shone with morning dew in the sunshine. He could see a glimmer of light off of her hair from the bench near the cherry blossom tree. Legolas remembered his father's words. Thranduil seemed to know her past, and had warned him that anger would be misplaced.

As he approached, she was sewing a quilt she had been working on for Sirya day and night. She turned her head, but turned away when she recognized his footsteps. Her carefully braided hair was facing away from him, and he sat next to her on the bench.

"I want to hear about him," Legolas tried quietly. She stopped sewing.

"I want to hear about Elenwë."

She stared at her hands, her eyes tired. He waited for her to say something, anything. His heart pound, and it felt like an eternity before she drew a breath.

"I met Elenwë when he arrived in Eregion. He was an escaped slave of Morgoth, and had deep scars that marred his body and his heart, but he was uncommonly kind and gentle. I was one of his nurses."

"What did he look like?"

"He had black hair, like Sirya's, and blue eyes so light they looked like raindrops," her voice became a whisper, lost in the gentle breeze that stirred the leaves and pushed Legolas' hair into his face.

"He sounds wonderful."

She looked up at him, agony in her gaze, "He was."

Legolas watched her shaking finger trail the edge of the quilt. "What happened?"

"He died in the war against Sauron. I never recovered his body."

Legolas bowed his head. "What did you do after?"

"I came here briefly, under Oropher, and then hopped from Lindon to Rivendell, and then back here, under your father."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Legolas finally asked, his voice betraying his hurt.

"I intended to," she promised, "But Sirya came into the picture and by the time he was settled, it felt too late. Besides, I wanted a new life. I did not wish to continue living in the past. I was not searching for a relationship when I arrived, but, I fell in love with you."

"But you are still married. He waits for you in Valinor," Legolas said quietly. He waited for her response with a rock in his stomach.

"The Doom of the Noldor says otherwise. He will never re-embody."

Legolas sighed, and his gaze fell to the damp cobblestones. He couldn't imagine her pain. Elves would re-embody after a time spent in Mandos Halls. Permanent death was something only experienced by mortal men. Elves didn't know how to handle such things. She knew no one who understood her loss. Aside from Elrond.

"I assume that is why you went to Rivendell. To talk with Elrond."

"Yes. Elrond understood my pain. We grew very close. He then found me employment here in Mirkwood and the rest you know." Legolas hurt, and could think of nothing else. She had lived such a full life. She had suffered in ways he could not imagine. She had been married, a physical and emotional relationship Legolas had never experienced. "I apologize for not telling you. It was not of ill intent." She murmured.

"I am not angry." He said quietly, "I would have done the same."

She looked up at him. Her grey eyes had stilled tears that clung to her eyelashes, but they would not fall. She had said shed far too many tears for Elenwë, for the bitter cruelty that tore him away from her. For the brutal murder that destroyed her family, her faith, and her home several times over). No, she had shed far too many tears that fell with little use to the thankless earth. No. These tears would not fall.

"Talk to me, Legolas. Tell me what ails you. I know that you are not at ease."

His mind stumbled over his reserves. He felt insignificant. Childish.

"How does Herenvarno know you?" He asked.

"He knew my husband in passing. I am in shock he recalled Elenwë's name."

My husband. Legolas cringed.

"If you so wish, I will release you. I understand the difficulty you will have, courting a married elleth."

"I do not care about what they think," Legolas whispered, his head in his hands. She continued to sew. "You did not have children?"

"No. No," She said quickly, "I promise."

"No more secrets," He said and she nodded.

"Agreed. That goes for you as well. I urge you to be honest about how you feel. I sense unease within you."

He looked away from her, and she brought his face back to her with her finger.

"Your husband died, many centuries before I was even born. You have experienced so much more than I."

"I was only 53 when I married. I was 78 when he died. I was very young, and my marriage was very short. I love you for you Legolas. Not for your involvements. War is not something I would wish for you. Death and loss are not subjects I desire to relate to you with." He nodded, and she touched his hand gently.

"I am terribly sorry," her voice broke, and he embraced her. She was trembling, and he buried his hand in her hair.

"Ge melin," he whispered, and held her desperately close.

"Ge melin, meleth nin," she whispered, and a tear fell onto his neck. She still had tears. Tears for him. For their small family of misfits. Together they were a combination of old, young, disabled, injured, healthy, happy, and fearful. They were warriors, heroes, students, lovers, husbands, wives, and children. Together, they had one another. Their range of abilities and experiences and training could get them through any situation, driven by love and hope.

Baineth slept over that night as she always did, but it felt far more electric than it had in the past. It had become routine, but with truth, they had grown closer. without the wall of her past before her, she could look ahead. She slid into Legolas' bed with an anticipated glow. Her fingers trailed his forearm, sending fireworks up his spine.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes were trained on his, a new, intense love within their depths. Legolas swallowed sharply. They were headed toward uncharted territory. Her hands found his collar bones, and she traced the line of his neck with her gentle fingertips. She twirled his braid in her hand, and brought herself closer to him, her warm breath caressing his skin.

"I wish for you to marry me," Legolas whispered, his hand planted behind her head, her hair tangled between his fingers.

Her grey eyes wrinkled with a grin, "You do? Even after today?"

"Yes. More than ever. I love you, and I cannot imagine a day without you."

"Even with all my baggage?" She asked cautiously, the light leaving her eyes in place of a wall.

"Will you take me with mine? My insecurities, my temper-"

She laughed, and pulled him into a kiss. Warmth cascaded through his body, and he pulled her closer, a soft grunt escaping his throat. The few candles lit in the room danced over her skin. She rolled on top of him, trailing kisses over his jawbone.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, and she silenced him with another kiss.

"We should tell my father," he murmured against her lips.

"I think he would like that."

He kissed her, his eyes rolling back in his head. She pulled away and put her robe on, a sly smile on her lips. They found Thranduil seated on his sofa, his hair tied back messily in annoyed fashion. He smiled up at them both, and tossed his paperwork onto the coffee table, clearly relieved to be free of its torment.

"I see that you both have come to an understanding," Thranduil nodded.

"We have, with thanks to your kind, wise advice," Legolas said, his hand over his heart. "And we have made an agreement."

Thranduil tilted his head with a questioning gaze.

"We agreed to get married, once Sirya was well enough to attend and be part of the ceremony."

Thranduil's hands clapped together, and they found his nose. His eyes were shut tight, and he bowed his head in silent praise. Legolas sat next to him, his hand on his back.

"Praise the Valar," Thranduil whispered shakily, his voice heavy with emotion. Tears flowed hesitantly over his fingers, still pressed together in thankful prayer. Thranduil looked up at Baineth, tears in his eyes.

She nodded, tears in her own eyes. There was an understanding between them that Legolas could not understand. A seeming end to centuries of misery for them both. A light at the end of an endless dark. She sat on the other side of Thranduil, and embraced him.

"I am honored to have you as part of the family," Thranduil smiled and wiped his cheeks.

"I am honored to be part of the family," she smiled, and Legolas kissed her over his father's head.

"Oh, praise the Valar," he smiled and Legolas received a tight embrace from his father. He returned it, Thranduil's hand running over the back of his head. His son had finally found happiness.

It was time for Sirya to go home a few days later. Loth and Telion wrapped his head and neck in preparation for the move, regardless of how short his travel was. Baineth brought the quilt she'd sewn in her silent prayer for her son. They all felt the looming, strangling sense of anxious pause. He was going home to be cared for by his parents. Upon arrival Sirya was awake, sensing the excitement in the auras of his healers. Legolas wrapped him in Baineth's quilt, and Baineth put socks on his bare feet. He grumbled and grunted, the only sounds he'd made since the week of his surgery. He grasped at the ends of Legolas' hair, and Legolas kissed the side of his head.

"Let's go home."

Thranduil carried him back to the Royal wing, curled carefully against his broad chest. The guards opened the door for him with delighted vigor, and Thranduil lay him in Legolas' bed. Sirya snuggled up in the blanket, his eyes closed.

"Lie down." Thranduil said and Legolas looked at Baineth with hesitation. She nodded, and Legolas lie down carefully. He was tired.

"Sleep," Thranduil nodded, his hooded eyes determined.

Legolas shook his head, "he could fall-"

"Baineth and I will stay and watch him. Do not worry, rest."

Legolas rolled over to look at Sirya. His eyes were closed, and he was kneading the sheet in his hand. Loth had told them the kneading of everything he could get his hands on was an attempt to comfort himself and relieve pain. Legolas put his hand over Sirya's, and he stopped, grasping Legolas' finger instead. Legolas smiled, and slowly drifted to sleep, he and Sirya cuddled up against one another.

When Legolas woke, he heard voices. He opened his eyes, and it was Sirya's muffled voice. He was speaking quenya quietly into Baineth's shoulder. She had him in her arms, rubbing his back in soothing circles. Her eyes met Legolas', joy in her face. She responded to Sirya in a quiet whisper. Legolas blinked. She spoke quenya, too.

"I only know very little," She said to Legolas quietly.

"Is he speaking coherently?"

She nodded, "mostly."

Legolas put his head in his hand, fighting the tears.

"He asked where he was, what day it was. If he was ok," she said softly.

Sirya's wrapped head was lolled against Baineth's shoulder.

"I am hungry," Sirya said, returning to sindarin. Legolas perked up, but Thranduil was already up and out the door.

"Your Daeradar is going to get something for you," Baineth said quietly and kissed his head. Sirya made small, grumbling noises against her, his body making little jerky movements with each.

Thranduil returned with Loth and Telion in tow. Loth bent down next to him, touching his cheek with his finger. "Hello, Sirya," he said gently.

Sirya turned toward loth weakly, Baineth was supporting his neck with her hand.

"How are you feeling?"

"Okay."

Loth smiled. "Wonderful. I heard you are hungry?"

Sirya coughed, and Loth had a few slices of bread in his hand. He pulled a piece off and put it to Sirya's lips. He turned his head away with a disgusted shake of his head.

"It is bread, Sirya," Baineth said quietly. Loth had a bottle of miruvor in his hand, and pulled the stopper from it with a sigh. He put it to Sirya's lips, and he drank a bit before turning away. Loth grinned, comforting Legolas' concerns.

"Does anything hurt, Sirya?" Loth asked, his hand on his shoulder.

"My head," he murmured.

"That is alright," Loth said quietly. "I expect it to for a little while. But I have medicine for you."

Sirya pressed himself against Baineth. Loth turned to Telion who handed him the blended herbs.

"You remember taking this before don't you?" Sirya didn't respond, but allowed Loth to put the herbs in his mouth. He tried to spit them out, but Loth put his hand over his mouth.

"Swallow them Sirya. You have to," Loth urged.

Sirya began to cry, but Loth shook his head sharply to Legolas.

Don't interfere.

"Sirya," Baineth said with her firm but kind tone that she used on the orphanage children, "Swallow."

Sirya cried odd, like a kitten who lost its mother more than an young elf. He sounded entirely different than he had prior to the surgery, and it made Legolas' stomach churn.

Loth moved his herb coated hand away from Sirya's mouth and poured some miruvor into it. Sirya swallowed as instructed, but continued to cry like he had been beaten.

Loth stood and wiped his hands on his pants, "He is going to have strange mood swings, behaviors. He may speak gibberish one moment, quenya the next, and have no idea that he was not speaking sindarin. He is going to have spatial difficulty, and standing should not be considered for him for quite some time. Try not to tell him if he fades into another language, he will become afraid and there is nothing he can do about it regardless."

Legolas nodded, and watched Sirya cry quietly in Baineth's arms.

Loth continued, his eyes also trained on Sirya. "He will have difficulty with his bodily functions. He may soil the bed. He may vomit any food he eats. Be ready for anything. He will get better over time. Be sure to change his pillowcase every night before he sleeps. I will come around a few times each day to check and change his bandages."

Legolas rose and embraced him. "You saved him. You saved his life."

Loth smiled and kissed Legolas' cheek. "I will be around in an hour. I would like to mix him some pain killers."

When Loth returned Sirya was back in the bed with Legolas, and Baineth was reading to them from the chair.

"This is a rare sight. Both Legolas and Sirya resting simultaneously. Neither giving me a hard time. It is a miracle from the Valar. The lady of mercy watches over me tonight."

Legolas rolled his eyes and Baineth hid her smile.

"Let me take a look at you first, Sirya is more patient than you."

Sirya smiled, and Legolas rubbed his chest with a grin, "you think that is funny do you?"

Loth smiled and winked to Legolas, and Legolas pulled his shirt up and away from his healing wound for Loth to look. It was nearly healed, the last of it was clearing up into bruises.

"Much better. You have taken example from Sirya."

Sirya smiled again and Loth walked around the bed and sat in front of him. "You do not think I have missed your laughing away over here, do you?" Sirya laughed once, a tired, wet laugh. It took far too much effort. Legolas looked to Loth, who did not seemed concerned in the slightest.

Loth unwrapped his head with expert hands, and Legolas watched curiously. His head near the wound was black and blue bruises, with flourishes of green across the rest of his skull. The wound itself was a messy incision of dried blood and scabs, the skin pulled together and held by black stitches.

"Beautiful," he assured Legolas and Baineth with a curt nod. "Exactly what I hope to see." With Sirya's head rested in his hand, Loth pulled the pillow from behind Sirya's head. "Change the pillowcase." Legolas did, and Loth slid it behind his head before carefully wrapping Sirya's head in fresh bandages.

"You sleep now, I will see you in the morning."

Sirya nodded, and Loth smiled and stroked his cheek.

"Goodnight Legolas, Baineth."

"Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading happy new year


	21. There Goes Paradise

Sirya lay against his father, his arm around his waist. Sirya didn't speak much, but when he did it became increasingly coherent throughout the day. He was aware of who and what was going on. Where he was, and what had happened to him. However, he declined to see Laina every time he was asked. He didn't want anyone to see him other than his parents, Thranduil, and Emarth. Legolas rubbed his stomach. He was awake.

"How do you feel?" Legolas murmured.

Sirya shrugged and Legolas sat up to look at him.

"Are you in pain?"

Sirya licked his lips, "I am always in pain."

Legolas helped him drink some water and take his medication. He rolled toward his father and Legolas embraced him.

"I wish to get up."

"When Loth comes tomorrow, we will see what he has to say about it."

Sirya coughed and Legolas wiped hair from his face.

"Ada," he said quietly.

"Mhm?" Legolas touched his head.

"How badly do I look?"

Legolas' eyebrows rose. It was the first time Sirya was openly concerned about his appearance. He had known it would come about eventually, but he wasn't expecting him to ask directly. Sirya was considerably self conscious, especially for an elf. It was a trait that embarrassed him.

"You look exactly the same, simply tired, and with no hair on one side of your head. You do not look bad."

"My hair-"

"Will grow back. Which will not take long, meleth nin. Besides, your Nana had already thought of all kinds of ways to braid it. It is still beautiful, Sirya, don't you worry." Sirya smiled, despite his mood. His father always knew. "If you wanted Laina to come, your Nana could certainly fix it nicely."

"I do not know," Sirya said quietly.

Legolas understood. Sirya had only become completely aware two days prior. He wasn't comfortable with himself yet.

"It is up to you. She knows you are alright and she is patient. She will wait until you are ready I am sure."

"It is just, I am still doing... strange things."

He spoke quenya at random times and saw things that weren't there. He'd vomited his lunch the day prior. Legolas nodded.

"It is alright. It will pass."

Baineth entered, a cup of tea in her hand. "My," She exclaimed, "You are both awake at the same time."

Sirya smiled and Baineth kissed his cheek.

Telion paced in Thranduil's office. The king had gone to retrieve Legolas. Telion didn't want to say what he was about to say, but he knew it was necessary. It was fair. He was dressed in ceremony robes, and his most expensive boots. This was going to change his life forever, and it was quite humiliating. He wanted to say his peace with dignity.

The door opened and Telion bowed his head as Legolas and his father entered and took their seats. Legolas looked equally as confused as his father.

"What was it you wanted to talk to speak with us about?" Thranduil asked, his long fingers intertwined under his chin. Legolas had regained color. Telion sighed internally. Loth had, again, done what he could not.

"With what has happened recently, I think it would be important for you to review the staffing in the healing wing."

Thranduil cocked his head. "What is it that you mean?"

Telion sighed, and adjusted himself in the chair. "I believe Loth is better suited for the position of head healer than I."

Thranduil raised his hand, "Telion-"

"My Lord Thranduil," Telion interrupted, "A head healer should be able to keep his or her head in all situations. I lost mine in a very important situation indeed."

"Telion. I know about what happened with your patient under lord Elrond." Telion put his head in his hands. "I have always known of that incident. I understand your hesitation with Sirya, as does Loth. We have not penalized you."

"I know, and I appreciate your kindness and understanding. But Loth is far better suited, and I formally resign."

Legolas stared at him. "That would require you to join us on patrol."

Telion hadn't thought of that. "That would be if Loth chooses me as his deputy healer. If you will have patience with me, I would be able to learn."

Legolas nodded sharply. "Telion, this is a serious move on your part. There is a more than fair chance you will never advance again."

Telion nodded. His hands were clammy.

"Please, think about this," Thranduil murmured, his gaze trained on him.

"Thank you, but I have. I formally resign." Telion pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket. A formal resignation, with a witness' signature. "Loth is stronger than I in almost every way."

"We will consider. If we so decide, we will offer Loth the position. But, he can deny it. If he does, your fate is in the hands of whomever becomes the lead healer."

Telion nodded, "that is fair."

Telion was dismissed and he rushed to his quarters. Regardless of the hours he'd spent thinking prior, he couldn't stop the pounding of his heart and the sinking sense of loss. He'd worked for that position from the day he could walk. Now it was gone, through his fingers. He slammed open his door and leaned against it. What would be his fate?

Sirya woke early the following morning, the dawn climbing over the trees in the window. He shifted, and froze.

He was damp.

No. No, no, no. He'd already vomited on his parents, spit on them, bled on them. Not this. He looked over, and Legolas was peacefully asleep on the opposite side of the bed. Next to him, Baineth's back was touching Sirya's arm. He bit down a sob. Maybe it would dry before they woke up. He sniffed, and Baineth shifted against him. He stiffened.

No...

She groaned and rolled to face him, her eyes opening a crack. "Are you alright?" She whispered.

"Nana-" he whispered, his voice shaking.

"What is it, meleth nin?" She asked and sat up with slowly increasing awareness. Her face registered recognition when she touched the mattress.

He sobbed, and she shook her head. "Ion nin, it is alright."

"Nana, I am sorry-"

"Do not be sorry sweetheart," she said and stroked his cheek.

"Do not tell Ada," he cried quietly.

"I have to, he has to get up. I have to pull the blankets off, penneth."

"Nana-"

"He loves you, he will understand. Do not worry."

Sirya cried openly, and Baineth shook Legolas.

"Sirya wet the bed," She said gently.

"Alright," Legolas said and got up. He rubbed his eyes before he lifted Sirya into his arms.

"Emarth?" Legolas said and the door opened, both guards looking in with concern.

"Can you please draw a bath? Please," Emarth nodded and walked past Baineth to the bathing room. Sirya sobbed, his hand over his face.

"Sirya," Legolas said and followed Emarth into the bathing room. "Please do not be upset. It is not your doing. Loth even told us it would happen."

"I am so sorry Ada, your bed-"

"It is a bed Sirya. That is all. You are far more important to me than my bed, which will be cleaned and it will be fine. My only concern is you."

Emarth didn't look for an explanation, he'd caught enough in Legolas' speech. Legolas sat Sirya down in a chair and pulled his bedclothes from him and set him in the bath. Sirya cried and rubbed his eye awkwardly with his hand. He couldn't even do that right.

"If I had been the one to have surgery and I did that, would you blame me?" Sirya shook his head, and Legolas brushed his hair behind his ear. "And what would you say to me if I were beating myself up?"

"That it's not your fault and it will pass," Sirya cried.

"Because that is the truth. I am going to go help your Naneth for a moment. Emarth will stay with you."

Legolas rose and returned to the bedroom to help Baineth get the blankets and pillows off of the bed. Emarth pulled some of his armor off and sat on the floor next to the claw foot bathtub. Sirya's scar gleamed black from the back of his head. His glacier blue eyes were red and pointed shamefully at the lavender soaked water. The stubble of raven hair was a violent line against the gorgeous, tumbles of black on the opposite side. Emarth's thumb found the freckle on Sirya's porcelain cheek.

"Do not be embarrassed. Your Adar and your Naneth would fight the Valar themselves for you. They want you to be happy. Take this in stride. You had surgery on your head, the control center of your body. Strange things are to happen until you are well again."

"I want them to be happy. I have been nothing but a nuisance since I arrived. I thought, since I was older, I could be more helpful. I was mistaken."

"Sirya, you have never been a nuisance. You are the light of Legolas and Baineth's lives. Not to mention mine as well. This is what family does for one another. There is no need to condemn yourself."

Sirya nodded, and Emarth smiled and rubbed his back.

"All will be alright still."

Telion woke to his door slamming against the wall. He was lying on the floor, a bottle of wine next to him. Loth stood in the doorframe, his green eyes wide with rage.

"What is wrong with you? Have you gotten a head injury as well?"

"What?" he groaned, and sat on the couch.

"Why would you do that? Why would you resign?"

"I could not do the surgery, I could not help Legolas. I panicked. Those are not qualities of a lead healer and I save Thranduil and Legolas the controversy of keeping me around."

"You selfish ass!"

Telion stood, anger bubbled in his core. "You get a promotion and I am a selfish ass?"

"Yes! I did not want a promotion because you resigned!"

"Would you rather I die? Because this is the only way you can get a promotion unless I die."

"I may kill you myself."

Telion stared at Loth. His blonde hair hung in his eyes, and he blew it away with an aggravated puff. "How can you put me in this position?"

"Accept it. You deserve it, you are far better than I. If you do not, some other undesirable will take the position and we will both be finished."

Loth stared at him. "I suppose you wish that I choose you for me deputy healer."

Telion shook his head, "You are not obligated to do so. I would understand."

"You are my partner, Telion. I cannot work with anyone else."

Telion smirked, "I will have to go into the woods."

"Indeed. Giant spiders and all."

Telion frowned, mock disgust on his face. "It sounds quite pleasant. Sleeping in the dirt, healing wounds with leaves and river water."

Loth laughed, "That is for you to figure out now. Now I get to boss everyone about."

Telion chuckled and Loth mussed his hair playfully. "You are far too much to deal with. I will need a vacation."

Loth left Telion in search of Menel. He had been courting her for several months, and soon hoped to marry her. She too was a healer, but at the military school. She was waiting for him in the garden, they had a date that day for lunch. She'd been so proud of him the past several weeks, earning awards and doing impossible surgeries. He was nervous. He had been too fortunate as of late… something was lurking in the shadows.


	22. Deep Roots Are Not Reached By The Frost

"Walking?" Loth's eyebrows rose, his hand rested on Sirya's wrist to check his pulse. Sirya picked at his lip, and Loth pulled his hand away from his face. "I think you may be strong enough."

Sirya grinned and Loth shook his head. "You must rest when you are tired. Aggravating this will do nothing more than land you back in the operating room."

Sirya nodded. He understood, but he was excited.

Loth checked his wound, "I think it is about time to remove those stitches."

Sirya swallowed. He was waiting for him to say that. He'd been dreading the day Loth would remove his stitches for days. He winced when his touched them with his pillow, getting them removed would be a nightmare. Loth nodded to Legolas, who sat behind Sirya, and Baineth in front. Sirya whimpered, and loth put a piece of wood between Sirya's teeth.

"Hold your Naneth's hands," Loth said as he positioned Legolas' hands on Sirya's head to hold him still. "It does not matter how badly you wish to," Loth said quietly, "Do not move your head. I could cut you, and then you would need more stitches." Sirya whimpered, and Loth rubbed his shoulder. "Hurt your naneth, break the wood in your mouth, but do not move your head." Baineth rolled her eyes at Loth playfully, and he winked.

Sirya was not a child, and didn't wish to act like one and embarrass himself. But he was scared. Baineth's thumbs rolled over Sirya's hands. Loth touched the wound and Sirya closed his eyes. Pain shot like lightening through the cut, and struck spots seemingly random that felt connected by an electric string. Behind his eye, his inner ear, a tooth, his temple. Loth clipped a stitch, and Sirya felt the skin relax. He groaned, pain coursing through his neck.

"I know," Loth said and clipped another two. Sirya squeezed Baineth's hands, and Legolas' arm was shaking. "Three more," Loth said and clipped another. Sirya held down a sob. A migraine had set in, and each clip pounded his brain against his skull and behind his eyes. Loth cut the next two in quick succession and pulled the threads from his scalp with expert hands. Loth pulled the stick from his teeth and rubbed his temples with his thumbs, massaging pain from behind his eyes.

"It will be a tough day, I have angered your already angry head," Loth said. "Legolas, give him the herbs I gave you, a half dosage more than usual. It should chase the pain away."

Loth's rough thumbs massaged over Sirya's temples, his head in his lap. Sirya's hands rested over Loth's, his eyes closed. Legolas returned with the herbs, and Sirya swallowed them with no objection. Loth stroked his hair.

"He is healing well." Loth said in gentle westron, an attempt not to disturb Sirya. "Let him try to walk. He is so eager, he needs to get it out of his system."

"You do not think he can?" Baineth asked.

"No, I do not believe so. Not well. He will be dizzy and disoriented. Make sure you keep an eye on him." They both nodded, and Loth swept his hair from his eyes.

"I think now that Sirya is well enough and you are here, you have to hear the news," Legolas grinned.

Loth tilted his head and Legolas got Emarth from the hallway. Emarth looked as confused as Loth, and he sat next to Sirya on Legolas' bed.

"Once Sirya is up and well again," Legolas said, "Baineth and I are getting married."

Sirya grinned and Emarth and Loth cried out and jumped from the bed.

"That is wonderful news!" Emarth cried and slapped Legolas' back.

"It is about time you both have been courting for years!" Loth laughed and Legolas smiled. Emarth took Sirya's hand and rubbed it. He was smiling, and Baineth kissed his cheek.

"That means I will adopt you as well," Baineth grinned. Sirya gasped and they all cheered and gave their congratulatory blessings.

"Thranduil must be a happy Adar," Loth laughed.

There was a knock, and Legolas opened the door. It was Thranduil. His eyes were disturbed, like they were on nights he woke from nightmares of death and war.

"What has happened?" Legolas asked and closed the door behind him, leaivng them alone in the hallway.

"It is Arthon," Thranduil whispered, "Leniven approached me, we must send him away."

"Away? For what reason?"

"He has killed Herenvarno, and beaten a guard badly. He is in the healing wing now, and is being tended to by Telion."

"He killed Herenvarno?" Legolas repeated, unsure what he heard could possibly be correct. Killing another elf was entirely unheard of. Slaying of kin hadn't been done since the first age, in Thranduil's youth.

"Celeborn and Haldir had a case similar to this many years ago, and did what I plan to do. Send him to Valinor as a dangerous criminal."

"I wish to speak to him beforehand. As well as the guard."

"Go, I will send Loth out to you."

Legolas stood in the hallway, and moments later, Loth and Emarth joined him. Legolas got them up to speed. Emarth was quiet, and Loth ranted.

"Why must I continue to treat those injured innocently? I expect to treat soldiers, expectant mothers. Not children and guards straight from graduation."

"I fear you will be treating plenty of soldiers soon enough," Legolas said, and Loth shook his head. Telion caught Loth at the door, "He is stable. He got quite a beating, however, and he is shaken up."

Loth entered the room followed by Legolas and Emarth. The young guard's eyes widened, and he gasped.

"Your highness, Lord Emarth… I-"

"Calm down, soldier," Loth sighed, and smirked. "They are here to see how you are doing, and hyperventilation is not what they hoped for."

The guard's arm was wrapped, and both of his eyes were blackened beyond recognition. Another guard was seated next to the bed, his eyes red and bogged down. Loth examined the guard, and Telion spoke to him of his findings.

"What happened?" Legolas asked, and the accompanying soldier met his eyes with despair.

"My lord," he stuttered, "I was not present when the incident began, but, when I heard Luime's screams, I ran down to help, and Arthon was sitting on his chest, beating him with his fists. It was horrid…" he trailed off, his eyes glossy. "My lord," he whispered, "Is the other prisoner, is he-"

"Yes," Legolas nodded, "he is dead."

The soldier on the examination table, Luime, looked over. "Herenvarno is dead?"

"Yes," Legolas said.

Luime looked away from Legolas, tears in his eyes. Loth looked at the bruises on his chest, swollen to the point of broken skin and spilled blood. His hair had been pulled back by one of the healers, and Legolas wiped blood from the soldier's chin with his sleeve.

"Come and speak to me when you are released. I wish to speak with you."

Luime nodded, unable to meet the prince's gaze. Legolas rose, and Loth looked up at him.

"I will be back later on," Emarth said, "I would like to stay."

"Of course," Legolas said. Emarth understood the soldier better than anyone else. He wished for him to speak with him.

Legolas made his way down to the dungeon, and Arthon was guarded by the citadel elite, the same group that guarded the royal wing. Heavily trained and armed, they wore full suits of protective armor. Arthon was shackled within, and three guards accompanied him. Arthon didn't look up.

"Arthon," Legolas tried. Nothing. "Arthon. I am speaking to you." Legolas said, and he raised his head enough for Legolas to see the black and blue across his cheekbone.

"I have nothing to say to you," Legolas said, sitting on the floor to meet Arthon's eyes. "Only you know what happened between Herenvarno and yourself, and what possessed you to commit such a horrendous crime. I believed in you. You made mistakes Arthon, mistakes that with time would have been overlooked, and you would have been welcomed with warmth and compassion. But you continued to cut corners, and take before giving. You murdered another, and for that you cannot be forgiven."

"He betrayed me. You cannot understand," He ground between his teeth.

"You betrayed me, and yourself. I will miss you. I will miss who you were." Arthon looked up, confusion and fear in his gaze. What did that mean? Legolas rose, and left. Arthon would be gone in the coming week.

Loth visited Menel while Legolas went to scorn Arthon for the hundredth time. Loth thought Arthon was simply a bad elf, overtaken by his desires, but what did he know. He was only a healer. They were to get married the following month, and Loth was yet to tell Legolas and Baineth. Telion knew, of course, and almost told Legolas himself with joy. But Loth was reluctant to steal the spotlight from Sirya, or Legolas. The family was going through the hardest, and happiest time of their lives. His marriage was a drop in the bucket.

Menel made dinner for them both, and he told her about his day. She spoke to him of the influx of soldier injuries, and Loth found it interesting that he had not seen more injuries himself from the field. He was excited about their marriage the following month, and wished to have elflings. Legolas' own transformation inspired him to wish for fatherhood himself, and Menel agreed. He would spread the news soon, and Menel would meet the royal family.

Baineth watched Legolas enter with a gaze that demanded an explanation. But Sirya had other ideas, and immediately wanted to try and walk. Loth took charge of that, and Legolas and Baineth watched from the window.

"Take my hands," Loth said and Sirya did and pulled himself into a sitting position. His head lolled back, and Loth straightened it with his hand.

"Do you have it?"

Sirya nodded and Loth let go, and Sirya managed to hold his head up on his own.

"It's not going to feel right," Loth warned. "But that is what I expect. Remember when your hands felt disconnected from your body for a time?"

Sirya nodded.

"It will be similar to that again." Loth pulled Sirya to the edge of the bed. On the count of three Loth lifted him onto his feet. His body immediately buckled under the weight of his own body, and Loth held him up. Sirya made a panicked gurgle, and Loth held him around his waist.

"Remember what I said," Loth said and Sirya nodded. "Your body is perfectly fine. It is your head that is confused."

"Why doesn't it remember?" Sirya whimpered.

"It will. It takes time."

Loth 'walked' around the room with Loth for a time, getting more comfortable in his skin with each step. Legolas couldn't help but think of Herenvarno. Sirya hadn't sensed his father's death. At least, he hadn't tipped anyone off if he had. He was more than delighted by his progress with Loth, and Baineth continued with her curious glaring. Thranduil entered and his eyes found Sirya.

"You are walking! Wonderful!" He cheered, but stress plagued his smile. He beckoned Legolas to his desk with his gaze, and he brushed around Baineth, his hand running through her hair.

Thranduil rolled his map out on the desk. "The orcs that have overtaken Dol Guldur have come out of hiding. They have killed the southern patrol and the western patrol that rushed to their aid." Legolas stared at his father, whose gaze was focused on the map, he pointed to a section of the forest, but Legolas' heart was pounding in his ears. Blood rushed through his body, panic fueling his thoughts, his reaction. His arms and legs suddenly felt heavy, and his breath was caught in his chest.

"The eastern patrol has been ordered to fall back to reinforce the fortress nearest to the river. There, we must reinforce them with a battalion."

"A battalion?" Legolas repeated, dazed.

Thranduil looked up at Legolas, pain in his eyes, "yes."

"That means-"

"It means war."


	23. Not All Tears Are Evil

"War?" Legolas whispered.

Baineth spun around, her eyes wide.

"Yes. It has been spreading across Middle Earth. I have received word from Gondor, Rohan, Dale and Erebor. They all believe Sauron may be on the rise again."

Legolas could barely hear his father through his pounding heart in his ears. They had always been at peace, an orc here and there, as well as occasional spiders. But war. His father had told him stories that had kept Legolas up as a child. His father often woke screaming, soaked in sweat from the things he had seen again in his nightmares. Thranduil's father had died in his arms on the battlefield the last time Mirkwood had been at war. And baineth... Her husband died in the war, her home had been ravaged and burned, her family killed. She'd been uprooted time and time again. Now Sirya was barely well and Legolas was due to get married. He felt ill, but Thranduil didn't look well himself. His hands were shaking, and unfallen tears hung in his red rimmed eyes.

"Leniven is issuing the orders now," Thranduil murmured.

"Who are you sending?" Baineth asked softly.

"Telion, Amrahil… and Emarth, if you will allow it."

Legolas envisioned Emarth dying on the battlefield. Alone. "Ada," he whispered. "He has been through so much-"

"We all have. This is war, Legolas, and Emarth is the best."

Legolas shook his head, and found his way to the garden. He had to be alone, he couldn't stand the horror in Baineth's eyes. His father's defeated slump. Loth found him by the hydrangeas, a flower in his hand. He sat next to Legolas on the bench. He could see the glimmer of setting sunlight fading red over Loth's golden hair.

"I am not going to pretend that I did not hear the conversation," Loth said quietly.

"I would not expect you to," Legolas murmured and pulled a dandelion from next to the bench. He twirled it in his grasp.

"Menel and I were planning to marry in the coming months," Loth said and Legolas straightened.

"You did not tell me," Legolas said, vaguely insulted.

"It was a bad time, it was just before Sirya's disappearance. Well, we wish to still be married, before-" he paused, not wishing to say war. "We would be honored if you would be there."

"When are you planning to be married?" Legolas asked, trying to add a jovial tone to his voice.

"Tomorrow, the following day, perhaps."

Legolas looked over at Loth, a small smile on his lips. "I would be honored. Thank you."

Late that night Legolas had a glass of wine by the window. He couldn't sleep, and seemingly, nor could Baineth. She lie on the bed a book in hand. Not a word had passed between them since their earlier discussion of war. There was a twinge in Legolas' heart, and his hand flew to his chest. Baineth looked up sharply, and Legolas nodded. She felt it too.

They walked over to his father's room and Thranduil was thrashing in his sleep, his hair stuck to his face in sweat. The blanket was white knuckled in his grip. Legolas shook him, and Thranduil jolted awake.

"Legolas," he breathed, his chest heaving.

"It is me. It is just a dream," Legolas said quietly.

"But it is not," Thranduil gasped, "it is not a dream."

Legolas looked back at Baineth, who looked horrified. Legolas didn't know what to say.

"I do not know if I can continue to do this. The death, the pain-" Thranduil murmured, his reality still diluted in his passing nightmare.

Legolas' helplessness did not go unnoticed by Baineth. He had never been in the situations his father had been caught in, but Baineth had. She lit a few candles and sat before Thranduil, a helpless Legolas next to her.

"Your Adar died fighting this horrid monster," she began quietly, her throat clogged with haunting emotions of her own. "I remember his passion fighting against the growing darkness. He was tired too, Thranduil, but he would never take a knee before a servant of Morgoth. Nor shall we. We will fight as we always have. We will fight until our bodies give way, for I know you would rather this kingdom fall with dignity than give way to evil with a willing heart. You are a wise and caring ruler, Thranduil. You can carry your people to victory like you had all those years ago, when you returned a new king with less than half of your army."

Thranduil's tears ran into his hair and over his ears. She wiped them away with her thumb.

"Even then, you believed Mirkwood to be doomed," She smiled. "We are going to be alright, as we always have. We are Sindarin. We live on to fight another day."

Thranduil glanced at Legolas, whose gaze focused lovingly on his future bride's. Thranduil embraced her, and Legolas put his hand on his father's back in solidarity. Baineth understood what Legolas didn't, and for that he was grateful, but envious.

"I torture you yet again with war," Thranduil whispered for her ears only. She looked at Legolas, pain steeped in her gaze.

"You torture yourself with worry. War is inevitable, there is nothing more that you could have done to prevent this darkness from spreading."

Thranduil's tears continued to fall into Baineth's hair, and Legolas found himself terrified. His father was crying. Not from some nightmare of events long past. He was crying at the hands of terror. Unleased horror on behalf of his people, clinging to Baineth like an elfling. This was his father's nightmare. Thranduil was terrified to repeat the mistakes of Oropher, to watch his people suffer and die yet again. Legolas didn't know if Thranduil could handle it again, either. Thranduil allowed Baineth to coddle him while Legolas stewed in his new found fear. What was waiting in the future for Mirkwood?

Thranduil wiped his eyes and reddened, embarrassed and horrified by his display. This was his son and his future daughter in law. He was supposed to be their example.

"I apologize," he said quietly, his eyes focused on his lap.

"Do not," Baineth said and shook her head. "I share your fears. I too, have shed tears over this revelation. You are not above feeling. I understand that, and I urge you to speak to me again in the future. I have seen the same horrors."

He nodded with a grateful glint in his cerulean eyes. "I think we all deserve a glass of wine," Thranduil chuckled and wiped his eyes.

Legolas poured them each a glass, and the door creaked open. Sirya was leaning against the doorframe, breathing heavily. His walk was off, staggered, but Legolas was simply overjoyed to see him on his feet. He rushed toward him, offering him support, which he happily accepted. He limped over to the bed, and Thranduil kissed his head.

"What are you doing up?" Baineth asked.

"I could not sleep," Sirya said quietly. "What is happening?"

"War brews in the south," Thranduil said and the room remained quiet.

"War?" Sirya had the same fear in his face that Legolas experienced hours prior.

"It is very early, I cannot tell you much about it," Thranduil said quickly, "You will not be excluded."

Sirya seemed comforted, but his fear glowed bright from within. But with that fear burned anger. Thranduil stood, suddenly tall and broad again, a figure of grace and wisdom. He poured himself more wine, and pulled on his robe.

"If I am not to sleep, I will get some work done. Things are about to change, and I might as well get a head start on the piles of work that come with it."

"Ada," Legolas protested, and Thranduil lay his hand on his son's cheek, pain behind his weak smile, "it is alright."

Baineth didn't sleep the following two nights leading up to Loth's wedding. Legolas was worried, but she didn't want to plague him with her unchangeable emotions about an unchangeable situation. It was as if the valar had cursed her to suffer in love, eternally. Elves rarely got a second chance at love, and she had. She could feel it being torn from her again. It felt the same it did before. She knew that was why Thranduil was nearly hysterical himself.

It felt the same.

She tried to remember that it wasn't the same. Legolas was not Elenwe. Mirkwood was not Lindon. Thranduil was not Gil Galad. But the same looming sense of loss hung over her, like an impenetrable fog separating her from her life. From her family. She didn't think she could survive Legolas' death. With Elenwe she was young, hopeful, driven. She was bent on revenge. She wouldn't die because that was what Sauron had wanted. This time, centuries of suffering later…

She was tired.

Her feä was tired. There had been so much death and war, so much loss…

Legolas wouldn't die. She couldn't believe that. Nor would she. She would stay alive on sheer bitter rage alone, if she had to kill every orc herself. No one was going to tear her family from her again. She had a son now, a son that needed her. Sauron could fight her himself, and she would never fold. She had a family.

Legolas helped Sirya dress for Loth's wedding. They wore their best, and Sirya's hair was braided along the side of his head to cover his scar, and accentuate his shaved side, making it seem intentional. All of his hair fell onto the left side of his head, a thick braid running along the seam between his hair and his shaved scalp. It looked rebellious to Legolas, and he couldn't help but smile.

Sirya had developed an attitude about the war that Legolas hadn't expected. He had imitated his mother. He was enraged. He had sharply in his progress, and was up and sharpening his sword when Legolas woke one morning. He'd had substantial training from Emarth, and Legolas believed Sirya able to defend himself in a fair one on one fight. Sirya was a few short years from being considered an adult. He was a young adult with more wisdom than most adults in the kingdom. He didn't doubt his son's resilience. Not after what he had been through.

Sirya ran his hand along the braid that ran down his scalp. "I look alright?"

"You look great, Sirya."

Sirya grinned and his glacial eyes happened to land on Legolas'. His eyebrows were angled perfectly in relation to his cheekbones, making him appear intimidating and striking, like a wolf in the snow. His scar delved through his eyebrow and over the corner of his eye, shattering the porcelain illusion with stark reality of his experience. He was stunning. Legolas couldn't believe this beautiful young elf had survived all he had. Legolas kissed his forehead, and adjusted Sirya's maroon and black robes.

"You will go to the front line."

The statement surprised Legolas. "Yes. I must," He admitted.

"With Daeradar."

"Yes."

"What of Naneth? Myself?" Sirya said, his voice emotionless.

"You are both strong."

"What if you die, and then Naneth?"

Legolas' breath was torn from his lungs. He hadn't moved forward from his shock of the war, never mind the thought of him or Baineth's death.

"You will not ever be alone. Thranduil Emarth, Loth, Telion. They all love you. I have never met anyone as irrepressible as you, Sirya. You cannot be stopped, and you will be the one to keep us all afloat. Let us take this one day at a time."

Sirya nodded, "I love you, Adar. I do not want us to be apart."

"Nor do I, but I would do anything to protect you both."

Baineth entered, Laina in tow. Sirya spun to face the door, his mouth open in surprise.

"Sirya," she breathed.

"Laina."

"I, I thought you would never allow me to see you again."

"I wanted to be well…" Sirya explained.

Laina flung her arms around his neck, and he stiffened in surprise before returning it.

"I am relieved you are alright."

"I missed you," he admitted, and Legolas followed Baineth into the hall. They walked down to the royal conference room. It was painted beautifully and was small and intimate. It was perfect for their joining. Loth greeted Legolas, and turned to Menel. She was small, with light brown hair and blue eyes. Her hair was folded with flowers and fine lace, and Legolas bowed his head to her. She curtsied.

"Menel, this is Legolas, and Baineth, his fiancée." They were interrupted by the entering of Sirya, Laina, and Thranduil. Loth introduced them all, before they were seated for the ceremony. Legolas officiated, having them call on the valar in witness of their eternal love. They removed their rings of betrothal and exchanged rings of marriage. Joy was spread throughout the night, and they had dinner before retiring for the night. They avoided the subject of the war, and spoke exclusively of the joy and happiness of the day. Sadness would be abundant in the coming months. Now they focused on the little happiness they had.

Legolas was unable to sleep, and remained awake for the planning in the conference room. Maps were laid out, and troop movements were recorded. Leniven and Emarth planned ahead for additional reinforcement, led by Legolas.

"I need Legolas to do me a favor before he joins you," Thranduil said to Emarth and Leniven. "He must see Elrond about the escape of Gollum."


	24. Pulled Apart

It was a cool morning. The mist loitered around the treetops, blocking the sun's warming rays from the damp cobblestones of the courtyard. No birds sang. They dared not cast a cheerful glow on the fateful morning. Legolas' horse was saddled, and so were Sirya, Baineth, and Emarth's. Legolas' heart was heavy at the thought of leaving his father with the responsibilities that Mirkwood now faced, but it was his father's will that he was going, so he would go. Emarth seemed to have the same dreadful response. He was due to lead his comrades into battle, but his loyalties lie with Legolas. Although his teammates and peers would be leaving to fight, he would be in Rivendell.

Thranduil stood in the courtyard, his cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He was sending Legolas to keep him away from the front, but at the same time, something in his heart told him that there would be no keeping Legolas from the front. He worried for Sirya and Baineth, however. Their attachment to Legolas was as strong as his own. Legolas' involvement in the war would be horrific for the family.

Once Legolas had he and Sirya's horses situated, he approached his father.

"Be safe," Thranduil said quietly, his voice unusually steeped in emotion. To Legolas, he sounded tired. Finished. "Send word when you arrive."

"Of course, Ada," Legolas promised, hos own heart heavy from their parting. "Please, be safe as well."

Thranduil smiled sadly and allowed his hand to ghost his son's cheek. Baineth made her way over to them with Sirya attached to her arm. Sirya embraced his grandfather, and Thranduil rested his hand on the back of his head.

"I love you Daeradar," Sirya whispered.

Thranduil's eyes screwed shut, and he buried his face in Sirya's midnight hair. "I love you."

He embraced Baineth, and they shared a link in their feä. They both knew, it would be quite a long time before they were together as a family again. They did not know why or how, but the sinking feeling linked them both.

"Be safe," Thranduil said as they mounted their horses, and were off.

Loth watched from behind Thranduil, his wife next to him in heavy, loaded silence. Telion would be leaving with the patrol that afternoon, and his entire extended family will have gone. Thranduil would need him, and Menel squeezed Loth's hand as the king turned toward them. At a glance, Thranduil appeared ill. But Loth knew his pain branched far deeper than simple lack of sleep. This pain would plague their king, tearing him to shreds from within until Legolas, Sirya, and Baineth were back in his arms. Until Mirkwood was at peace again and its people could live and thrive again in harmony in their woodland refuge. But the scent of burning trees and blood, the screams and moans of his people would haunt him for many nights to come.

It was an extensive, silent ride to Rivendell. Each had their own reserves and concerns with leaving Mirkwood, and none were positive Mirkwood would even be standing when they returned. The forest seemed to shield them from unfriendly eyes as they traveled along the road. While Mirkwood's elves fought and died, Legolas and his party travelled silently and untouched along the outer border. Their arrival in Rivendell was far less exciting than usual. There was an air of darkness, a shadowed cloak covering the last homely house. They were welcomed and shown to their rooms by Lindir, who did not hesitate to warn them.

"Lord Elrond has been under quite a fair amount of stress as of late. He asks your presence at a council later this week."

"A council?" Legolas murmured. Baineth's heart pounded in her chest. She knew.

"Yes," Lindir said, "Mithrandir was attacked by Saruman, and Aragorn has brought halflings with him."

Legolas turned to Baineth, whose hand was over her mouth. War.

"Of course I shall attend, as shall Emarth."

"Of course, Lord Legolas."

Lindir left them, and Baineth took Legolas' arm. "Legolas I-"

"I know," he interrupted with a sigh, "allow me to hear what they have to say."

Baineth nodded, and Legolas turned to Sirya and ran his hand through his hair.

"It will be alright," he said quietly, but Sirya said nothing. He knew it wouldn't be. It seemed as If his family was falling apart, like leaves falling from a dying tree, and he was powerless to stop it.

He unpacked his things and put them in the drawers in his room. He was in the room across the hall from his parents, the one that faced the waterfall. He loved that room, and was grateful that Lindir was thoughtful enough to give him a room in which he could still enjoy the beauty of Imladris.

Once they had unpacked they were summoned to dinner.

Sirya was nervous, and Legolas was aware of his son's apprehension. But he had his own reserves about dinner. Emarth had been incredibly quiet since they had left the kingdom, and Legolas couldn't help but wonder what his concerns could be. Emarth had impeccable senses, and Legolas wondered what his instincts may have told him. Even Legolas felt the growing shadow climbing over the horizon toward him and his family, although he couldn't pinpoint the source. Baineth took the lead with Sirya, for which both Legolas and Sirya were grateful. She braided his hair, and Legolas braided his own on the bed. He watched Baineth pull on her shoes, and together they went to dinner in silence. There were dwarves, hobbits, elves, and men present, and Legolas was surprised. He knew there were other guests present, but not the magnitude Lindir insinuated. Everyone was talking and laughing at the oversized dinner table. Elves rushed back and forth between the table and the kitchen, clearly stressed about the volume of food that was needed.

Legolas sat at the table beside Erestor, and Sirya was sandwiched between his parents. Sirya felt as withdrawn as he had when he first visited as a child. He had not met any of the people present aside from Estel, whose name was no longer Estel. He was called Aragorn, or Strider in the wilds. Aragorn spoke openly, and his voice shook with emotion as he told of his journey forward with the hobbits. Sirya felt insignificant. He had done nothing. He had been nowhere. He would never be able to save anyone, or to fight orcs, or any of the things Aragorn spoke about. Elrond spoke proudly of Aragorn's deeds, and Legolas remained silent. Sirya crawled within himself; he had done nothing to be proud of. It was like his Atar, Herenvarno, had said. He was nothing but a burden to Legolas, Baineth, Thranduil, and even Emarth. He was an inconvenience, and a life in the forest in solitude may have been the right path for him. Maybe his Atar had been right.

"How have you been, Sirya? Your Adar told me of your terrible scare," Elrond asked him. The conversation at the table grew silent, and Sirya's heart began to pound. Legolas nudged him, and he cleared his throat.

"I am much better now," he mumbled.

"That is wonderful," Elrond said. "I prayed to the Valar that you would recover well. I hope while you are here you will feel rested."

"Thank you," He said quietly, and Legolas squeezed his hand under the table.

"Sirya will soon begin devising a foreign refugee plan with his grandfather," Legolas said with pride in his tone.

Sirya and Thranduil had spoken about it, but they had done little more than that.

"That is impressive. Is that your interest? Foreign affairs?" Elrond asked.

"Yes," Sirya said, "that was my area of concentration in the academy before…" he trailed off.

"You will be back soon," Legolas said, "and you were nearly finished. Aside from that, time in your Grandfather's court will be more valuable to you."

"I heard good things about the Grandson of Thranduil," one of the men said, "but you, lad, are surely on the path to greatness."

Sirya bowed his head gratefully, and his heart swelled with pride when his father said, "that we have always known."

Two days following, Legolas and Emarth attended the council. Not all that was spoken and debated in the council need now be told. Much was said of events in the world outside. they spoke of the troubles of Erebor and Dale, and the attempts Sauron has made upon their kingdoms. All of the news troubled Legolas. News when he was at home came and left him as misfortunes, but in person, being told before his eyes, was troubling. After the troubles were spoken of other lands, Elrond revealed the true meeting of the council.

"Called, I say, though I have not called you to me, strangers from distant lands. You have come here and met, in this very nick of time, by chance it may seem. Now, therefore, things shall be openly spoke that have been hidden from all but a few until this day. And first, so that all may understand what is the peril, the tale of the ring shall be told from the beginning even to this present. And I will begin that tale, though others shall end it."

Legolas knew the tale, but listened with vigor equal to an elfling hearing it for the first time. He drifted in and out of the story, and wondered where the council could possibly be heading. Boromir chimed in several times as Elrond told his story, of his parents and of his relationship with Gil Galad and the battle of the Last Alliance. Boromir took time to speak of Gondor while Legolas watched young Aragorn's concern wax and wane with each addition to the story. It wasn't until Elrond told the group who Aragorn truly was, and the hobbit Frodo brought forth the ring of power, that Legolas truly feared what was to happen next.

His hear pound against his ribcage, and the bones of his temples radiated against his eyes. Pain and fear twisted his stomach, and his mind screamed. That is the weapon of the enemy.

Bilbo began his tale, but Legolas couldn't peel his eyes from the ring. It held his attention, constantly adding to the pain behind his eyes but kept his heart interested. It wasn't until Gandalf read the terrible words on the ring, and Legolas was forced to cover his ears, that his heart was troubled by his attentiveness to the unadorned ring. They spoke of gollum, and fear spread through Legolas' heart.

"Smeagol has escaped," Legolas cried, distressed that Mirkwood had caused more harm in this story than Legolas could have imagined. His rift with Gloin was quickly forgotten, and Legolas continued to tell the story of Smeagol's escape. Glorfindel and Elrond exchanged for a time, and Emarth grazed Legolas' arm with his hand.

"My concern continues to grow with each passing word."

Legolas nodded, but he was occupied with the council. He too was concerned, but utterly captivated.

"We must send the ring to the mountain of fire."

The council grew silent. That mountain lay in Mordor. Was Elrond losing his mind?

Legolas's mind buzzed, and before he cleared his thoughts, Frodo would be taking the ring, and a group would be chosen to accompany him. Legolas turned to Emarth, who's face shown what Legolas already knew. Elrond's scouts, Aragorn, Elladan and Elrohir would be back, and he could possibly be asked to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***No Copyright infringement intended. None of the fellowship of the ring, including the council of elrond, is my own***


	25. Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost

"My father. Baineth," Legolas murmured, "Sirya."

"I know," Elrond said with a sigh. He had a glass of wine in his hand, but it remained untouched. Legolas had been asked to Elrond's quarters moments after the council had concluded. Legolas had never seen the other elf looked so exhausted. "There are no others."

Legolas' heart pound at the thought.

"Nearly all of my own warriors have gone. None left are as skilled as you are. Glorfindel..." Elrond paused, "his power is too great for this task. He will attract the enemy. You, Legolas, you have great strength, expertise of the wild, and combat experience. You lead a team of warriors regularly. Your instincts are unparalleled. You are made for a task like this." His tone was rimmed in desperation.

"I have barely left Mirkwood…" Legolas stammered.

"You will not lead the group. But you will be key to the survival of this fellowship."

"My father-"

"Thranduil is strong, Legolas. Your father and Baineth are from a different age. An age where valor in war was the highest form of responsibility, and risk of death was beyond imagining. It was reality." Elrond touched his forehead with the tip of his finger. "Your family will survive. Your father will understand, and will continue into this war. Although he feels as I do, his will shall not be diminished by your absence. Nor will Baineth." Elrond grinned, "Baineth is incredibly strong. She pulled many elves up out of the shadows when she was younger than you are now. She will be key in the war in Mirkwood, but you will not. You shall be key in the war for Middle Earth."

Baineth and Sirya were seated on the floor with a bowl of strawberries when Legolas returned late that night. Emarth had left Legolas alone with Elrond, and had not returned. Baineth and Sirya were giggling when he closed the door behind him, and Baineth turned, and her smile faded.

"What is wrong?" She asked quietly.

"I would like to speak to you both. About something that has happened."

Baineth set her strawberry down. Sirya already looked ready to cry, but pulled himself off of the floor and sat on the sofa.

"The one ring has been found."

Baineth put her hand over her mouth, "Where?"

"In the Shire, with a hobbit. He is here."

"What is to be done with it?"

Legolas stared at the ground. "After deliberation," he began, "it was decided that it must be destroyed."

"How is that done?" She asked quietly, knowing already what was coming.

"It must be returned to the fires of Mount Doom," Legolas murmured, "In Mordor."

She stared at him, "Who is to do that?" She asked under her breath.

"The hobbit," Legolas said quietly. "Along with a fellowship of companions and protectors. Nine, meant to mock the nazgul and deliver the ring to the mountain." He paused. "I was asked to go, and I agreed."

Baineth stood, her eyes were wide, and Legolas grew defensive at her gaze. "Why would you agree? Your own home is being attacked by Sauron; and you leave to walk a hobbit to the very heart of the land of darkness? You are needed in Mirkwood!"

"I am not," Legolas said forcefully. She would have to understand before he left, or he would not go. "I am not needed in Mirkwood. There are many warriors, many older and wiser than I. The only other of the eldar that could do this task as well as I is Glorfindel, and he cannot go due to his power. I have the tools to do well in this task, Baineth, and I only need go as far as I wish. I can stop in Rohan or Gondor."

"Rohan or Gondor," She spat bitterly. "You think you will go to Gondor and find shelter there? Those lands are under attack as well, and ending your journey in Gondor will leave you traveling alone across dangerous, war torn lands. Once you begin this, there will be no returning until the end."

He knew she was right.

"Baineth," he whispered, "I am needed."

"What of Emarth? Elrond's own sons?"

"Elrond's sons are helping," he forced, "why would you wish more pain on Emarth?"

"When Emarth returns he will be on the front line," She barked. "His sense of purpose, you, are going running off into the wilderness with eight strangers and no guard."

"Boromir of Gondor and Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor, are going with no guards as well. Emarth can choose his fate. My father will not make him fight."

"In war Legolas, many choices are torn from us. Emarth will fight, and when you return, Mirkwood will not be the land that you left. Many you know will be dead, land and homes lost. What of Sirya and myself? Your father?"

"My father will understand. You and Sirya are the only reasons I hesitate," Legolas admitted.

Sirya had been uncharacteristically quiet. "Sirya?" Legolas urged. He said nothing.

"I am not going to die, Baineth. It is no more dangerous than the war at home. Either way, as you said, I am due to fight."

Baineth fell silent. His words rang true. "When do you leave?"

"In two days."

She nodded, and Legolas turned to his silent son.

"Sirya," he said, and Sirya flinched from his tearful reverie. "Come with me."

Sirya stood, and his head reached slightly over Legolas'. He had grown incredibly tall, despite the odds stacked against him. Legolas took his arm gently and lead him into the hallway.

"I want to hear what you have to say. Your opinion is important to me. It has been you and me for quite some time."

"I do not know," Sirya said quietly. "You either go off to war now, or when we get home. Either way, I will sit and wonder what is happening. I am always placed in the corner, and forced to listen. I will sit through the war, through pain and struggle, idly standing by."

"No," Legolas said. "Is that not how your Naneth must feel? How all of the families of soldiers must feel? You are not alone in feeling helpless." Legolas said, his hand firmly on Sirya's shoulder. "I too feel as if my future and the futures of those I love is being decided regardless of what I do."

"I cannot help. I am useless."

"No you are not." Legolas pressed. "You can help. You will. Your Daeradar has plans for you and you know that is true. You will be helping. I also need you to be there for your Daeradar and your Naneth."

Sirya laughed cynically, "that is the task for a child. A blind person."

"No," Legolas said. "Your Daeradar and your Naneth were raised in a time of violence and death. That you know." Sirya nodded. "On top of the work your Daeradar gives you, they will need you. They need you to be positive. To be their light. It is alright to have your own fears and doubts and to express them, but they need brightness to keep their fears at bay. They never thought this time would come again. Now that it has, hope escapes them."

"You think they will fade?" Sirya asked, his eyes pointed toward the floor.

"No, but I certainly think they will come very close. Especially with poor news."

Sirya's head shot up, "What if something happens to you-"

"We cannot think that way," Legolas said. "I am with others, I am a superior fighter. I can stop where I wish, I will be alright. But poor news can be any news when the heart is saddened, and worry plagues the imagination."

"I do not want to do this, I do not want you to go," Sirya whispered.

"I love you and your Naneth and your Daeradar more than anyone or anything under the valar. That is why I must go. If we succeed, this will all be over, forever. If this ring does not make it to the mountain, then war would continue until all middle earth is covered in darkness. This is important, meleth nin, and you are important to me. I will not go if you ask this of me."

Sirya flinched, and placed his hand on his chest in horror. "What?" He shook his head. "I cannot. As you said this is important, more important than any of us."

Legolas embraced him, and Sirya's trembling arms encircled him. "Please try to stay out of danger."

"You as well," Legolas said quietly. "Do not make any rash decisions."

Baineth and Legolas spent the night under the stars on the balcony of their suite. Dew covered vines reflected the gentle glow of the moon onto Baineth's hair. They didn't speak about the fellowship or the mission any more. They were at a mutual understanding. He knew his family was upset with him, but they understood, and respected his decision. Thranduil would be told by Baineth when she returned to Mirkwood.

"When I return," he said softly, her head resting on his chest. Her hand caressed his side. "We will have a grand wedding." She tightened her embrace, and he ran his hand through his hair. "And enough children to put Feanor to shame."

She laughed, "I do not know about that."

"You, Sirya, and I will live happily ever after for all days to come."

She looked up at him, tears framed in her gaze. "Oh Legolas-" he held her against his chest, tears in his own eyes. "It's a suicide mission. Everyone knows it."

Legolas sighed "No, I will be home. I promise. I will not leave you, Baineth." She got up on her elbows, and he pulled her toward him to kiss her. His heart pound before it slowed to a comfortable, steady rhythm. It was familiar, yet always exciting. She was home, and he would return to her.

Early the following morning, after a night plagued with nightmares and little sleep, Legolas found himself searching for Emarth. After he interrogated Lindir, he discovered him near the Bruinen. He was seated near the shore, his gaze focused on the rushing white caps over the rocks. Legolas sat next to him, and he didn't turn his head.

"Why are you angry with me?"

Emarth sighed, and pulled grass up in aggravation.

"I am not angry with you, Legolas."

"What is wrong then?"

"You came here to tell me bad news, so tell me what it is."

It was Legolas' turn to sigh. "I am going on the quest. Elrond asked me to and I agreed."

Emarth's eyes shot toward him, searching his face for signs of a joke. "Legolas-"

"I have heard every argument from Baineth and Sirya."

Emarth eyebrows furrowed, "what about your father? You would do this to your father?"

"It is not about him-"

"It is about him!" Emarth cried angrily, "your father is living through his worst nightmare as we speak. Thranduil is horrified with war. Now you decide to go running off with a fellowship that aims to walk directly into the home of the dark lord, and you did not even think of your father?"

"Of course I thought of him, Emarth, but-"

"But you assume he will simply accept it? He will go on with his life even with your absence? Thranduil will die if something happens to you."

"This is for the good of Middle Earth. Of Mirkwood," Legolas barked. "If that ring is not destroyed Sauron will kill us all. If I can help that hobbit get closer to Mount Doom, I will do so. Even if it is merely a few feet. I have the ability to get the ring to Mordor, Emarth, and nothing is going to stop me from ending Sauron and bringing peace to Mirkwood. I will die if I must, if it means protecting my family and Mirkwood. Sauron is the cause of my father's pain, and I will end him if I can."

Emarth stared at Legolas, and his gaze floated to the river. Legolas' chest heaved, his heart pounding with adrenaline.

"Who will tell him?"

"My father?"

Emarth nodded.

"Baineth will tell him."

Emarth laughed, and Legolas cocked his head in confusion.

"It is the first time you go where I cannot follow. Who shall I follow now, Legolas?"

"Your heart."

The following morning Legolas was due to leave he dressed in silence, Baineth and Sirya on the bed. He wore his patrol uniform, and braided his hair away from his face. He dressed for purpose. He didn't know when he would get a change of clothing. The thought stirred his stomach. He didn't know when he'd eat again. He agreed to go without if necessary, he was an elf, and didn't have to eat. But he would grow weak and delirious. He tried not to think about it. He had to take problems one at a time. He fastened his quiver and twin knives to his back. He put his bow carefully next to them, and fastened his wrist guards with hyper precision. He didn't want to leave.

Baineth rose and put her arms around him from behind, her head peeking over his shoulder to look at him in the mirror.

"I need you to return home like this," she murmured. Exactly as you are now."

He looked at himself, his own form foreign to him.

"I need you be home when I return," he said, his voice hoarse, "Exactly as you are now."

He turned and embraced her, his gear clanked in the heavy silence.

"Send word if you can."

He nodded, and glanced at Sirya, who was silent on the bed.

"Come," he said quietly, "it is time."

Baineth nodded, and Sirya rose and took Legolas' hand. Sirya's hand was shaking, and Legolas squeezed it with a weak attempt at comfort. In the courtyard, Boromir, Gimli, and the hobbits were waiting. Aragorn was speaking to Arwen on the steps, her face distraught. Legolas stopped on the stairs just out of earshot from the rest of the fellowship. Elrond put his hand on Legolas' shoulder.

"Be safe. May the blessings of the Valar aid you."

Legolas gave him a tight lipped nod, and Elrond moved to speak to the hobbits. Aragorn hurried down the steps toward them, and Legolas embraced Baineth one last time.

"I love you," she whispered, tears in her voice.

"I love you," he returned, and pulled Sirya into his arms. Sirya sobbed against him, and Legolas pressed him against his chest.

"Do not go," he whispered, his chest heaving.

"I must, we spoke of this, I must," Legolas hurried, the group was waiting for him. "I love you, Sirya, don't worry. I will be home soon."

Sirya's tears sparked Baineth's, and she silently wiped them away as she watched.

"You cannot leave, please," he cried, and Legolas took his face in his hands.

"I will be home to you. I will not leave you, Sirya. I refuse to leave you. Be strong for me, and for your Nana and Daeradar. Help them be strong, for me."

"I am not strong-"

"You are. You are the strongest elf I have ever met. When I return you can fall apart, but now you must be strong. This is not easy for me to do, but I must."

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you." He kissed his head and walked toward the stairs. He skipped down them effortlessly, and watched Sirya and Baineth from his postion before Lord Elrond, until it was time to leave.

"Which way is Mordor, Gandalf?" Frodo whispered.

Gandalf pointed, and Legolas followed the hobbit and the wizard out of the gate, and into the wilds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading


	26. In Pain Comes Strength

Thranduil paced the length of the kingdom's gate. They had managed to maintain their borders since Legolas had left for Imladris, but with heavy casualties. The weather had grown poor, each day gloomier than the last. The dark presence at Dol Guldur was changing the forest, destroying what little foliage remained and turning it dark, possessed. The residents of the villages had been brought into the stronghold and given temporary housing in the barracks. He looked up. They were due to arrive momentarily. He saw Emarth first, and smiled. Baineth's horse came into view, Sirya's arms around her waist. He looked for Legolas' familiar black horse, but Baineth's face told him it wouldn't appear. His heart sank, and his mind whirred. Where could he be? Where could he possibly be?

Emarth rode up to him and got off of his horse with a huff. "Where is he?" Thranduil asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"He is alright," Emarth said, "but we should discuss it in private."

Thranduil nodded, his heart leapt into his throat. They rode back to the stronghold, and Thranduil lead Baineth and Emarth back to his sitting room. Sirya sat in the chair in the corner, his expression gave away nothing to his grandfather.

"The one ring was found," Baineth said, and Emarth shut the door behind him with a quiet click.

"What?" He stood, but Baineth waved for him to sit down. She sat next to him, her hands in her lap.

"It was found, in the Shire. The hobbits found their way to Imladris with Estel," She explained. She told him about the betrayal of Saruman, and the formation of the fellowship.

"Legolas was asked, and agreed, to join the fellowship."

Thranduil was silent for a moment, before his eyes found Baineth's, "He is walking to Mordor from Imladris with the ring of power?"

She nodded, and glanced at Emarth, who wouldn't meet her eyes. "He will go as far as he wishes, he is not required to go to Mordor."

Thranduil stood and tore his hands through his hair, "but he will," his voice broke. "He will go the entire way. He will not leave this fellowship with the job unfinished. It is not in him."

Baineth stood, and put her hand on Thranduil's back. He turned and embraced her, his body shook in her arms.

"Legolas is a good warrior, he will not fall."

Thranduil couldn't be found the following day, locked in his office. Baineth spent her day in the forest, walking among the trees. They trusted in Legolas. He knew his limits, and he was a responsible and knowledgeable leader. Sirya had to agree, and his father's words changed him. He would trust in him, and find his place. He wasn't a child.

He walked to his grandfather's office, his arms filled with his maps and books. He opened the door without knocking, and the voices stopped within.

"Sirya," Thranduil cleared his throat. "What is it?"

"What is it you are discussing?" he asked and closed the door behind him.

Sirya could sense Emarth in the seat next to him, and he felt along the floor for the leg of the other chair. Once he found it, he sat down.

"We are discussing the issue of security along the western path," Thranduil said, annoyance in his tone.

Sirya felt along his maps until he felt the one that was labeled" West." He unfurled it on his grandfather's desk, pushing quills and ink bottles aside. "I studied the western pass."

Thranduil looked at Emarth, and he shrugged. "We cannot secure this area here." He said and put Sirya's finger on the small expanse that was seemingly the entrance to the kingdom for many enemies. Sirya slid his finger up, resting on a small expanse of stone through the pass.

"Upon further inspection by the western guard, a pass was found through the rock there, also-" he continued, and Thranduil looked over at Emarth, his eyebrows high on his head. "If the guard were to station here, and the northern guard were to move to the western guard's previous track, I think the area could be held until a structure could be built."

Emarth nodded to the King. He was right. Sirya rest his hand on his hip, "As far as the movement on the front-"

Sirya sat with his grandfather and Emarth for hours, pouring over maps. Sirya's expertise of strategy continued to amaze his grandfather and his father's guard and was brought to council the following week. He was made chief strategist over the course of the month and laid out strategic movements for the guard and the warriors on the battlefield. He became first consult to the generals of the kingdom and was invited to the frontlines to conduct strategy on the spot.

Baineth became the children's liason, and worked with orphans and foster youth that were separated or left behind by their family. She hired and had her own staff and assistants, and the orphanage was expanded to include many young elves that were in need of help, even those too old to be considered traditional orphans. Baineth returned often to visit Sirya and Thranduil, and they would spend late nights talking. They would talk about Legolas and their worries and concerns, and often plans for the future. Emarth would often join them. He was the king's first advisor. Legolas had requested he be kept off the field, and Thranduil had adhered to those wishes.

"What do you think of me going to the frontlines with the captain?" Sirya asked one night.

Thranduil stared at his grandson, "I think only of the ridiculousness of the concept."

Baineth stirred her tea, her eyes hooded, but watching.

"Daeradar, they need me."

The fire was roaring, and Emarth was nowhere to be found. It was late, but not late enough that Baineth insist they retire.

"You are not needed that terribly. The answer is no."

"You doubted me when I wished to join the team, and look at what I have done!"

"No!" Thranduil shouted, and set his glass done with a thunk. "I am your king, Sirya, and I tell you no."

"I am not a child!"

"But you are not an adult. You are far from it."

Sirya stood, "nana, may I be excused?"

"Yes," she murmured, and Sirya stormed from the room.

"He has grown bold." Thranduil spat.

"Why do you not wish for him to go?" She asked quietly.

"He'll die out there! Its war, Baineth, he is blind! He will require an immeasurable amount of protection, endangering the other warriors. He will not return. Not to mention, he is far too young to go forth with such responsibility."

"He has been shouldering the responsibility quite well thus far." Baineth interjected.

"You wish to send him?"

"No," she said, a shake to her voice, "but it is not about me. He has been beaten down his entire life. By his father, his disability, and his own feelings and reactions. But in the wake of Legolas' departure he has found his strength, something that gives him purpose. I cannot bring myself to keep him down yet again. To keep him from flourishing."

Thranduil stared at the flames, picturing the flames that brought down his homeland. Doriath had burned, and he was only just older than Sirya then. He was afraid, unsure. But he had his father's support. Thranduil too had found strength in the departure of his father, the drive to make his father proud driving him further than he thought possible.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Emarth knocked and poked his head in. His face was ashen, and Thranduil stood.

"What? What is it?"

Baineth sensed his fear and looked to Emarth.

"I have a letter from Elrond. He has received word that the fellowship has disbanded, and he knows not the location of any of the members, save Boromir of Gondor." Thranduil sat, his eyes wide, "He was found by his brother Faramir on a boat of Lorien set afloat on the river. Inflicted with wounds from uruk arrows."

"They were attacked." Thranduil whispered. "He does not know of Legolas' whereabouts?"

"No, not of any of the others."

Baineth looked to Thranduil. "He is alright, you know that. We would know if he were not. You would feel it, you know you would." She said quickly, her own heart pounding with the possibility.

"He is roaming the wilderness, he could be injured! He could be alone in that land, wounded and without aid!" Thranduil's voice climbed into panic.

"Legolas is a captain of the guard, Thranduil, he knows how to survive, how to clean his wounds and find food. I doubt very much that he is alone. He will be spotted and someone will write. Elrond watches them closely."

Thranduil raked his hand through his hair, "and you want to send Sirya to the frontlines! If that ring does not get to Mordor this kingdom will crumble and burn before our eyes, that child before it!" He couldn't get images of Doriath out of his mind, the smell of burning flesh and the moans of the dying. The blood that still soaked his hands. He pictured Sirya, Legolas in the same position, dying a slow death before the enemy as his family had.

"No!" He put his arms down on the chair, his breaths coming in gasps. His mind raced, and his people dying at his hands as they had when he were young berated him, taunted him. They were no Gondor, and they were alone.

Sirya slammed the door open, his eyes wide. He had sensed the urgency, the panic in the room. "What is it?"

Thranduil couldn't respond and clutched his head in his hands.

Emarth turned to Sirya, and tried to escort him from the room.

"He is alright! We will not fall before Sauron, not with the tools we have. This is not Doriath, Thranduil! We will hold out, and take each day as it comes. We both know what plans are laid out before us for each and every situation. Legolas is not dead, and he will send word when he can. If the fellowship is disbanded then e may be returning home."

She turned to Sirya, "come."

The authority in her voice left no room for argument, and he followed her from the room and back into his own.

Baineth shut the door behind her. She knew Sirya would shoulder it well, when explained to him with facts and not speculation. Thranduil had shaken her, badly. She stayed strong for him for Legolas. She knew how the wars had been on Thranduil. Unusually cruel and unforgiving. He was a reluctant king at the beginning, and that burden wore on him now. He was strong, but all strength could give way to weakness when too much weight was placed on it.

She sat on her bed and lay on Legolas' side. She let the tears come, and the sobs that followed shortly after. She had remembered Doriath, and her own life held the horrors of war. She did not wish for Sirya to leave them, but she would not clutch him to her chest, earning his resentment. Legolas would feel the same; that she knew. What if Thranduil faded before Legolas could return. What if she did? At times she felt her feä resist the urge to leave this world and to join the next, her own struggles weighing on her like a stone on a bird's wing. Children without parents crying into the night, begging her to bring them back.

Her chest ached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy Hiatus! SO sorry. My life went beserk for quite a while, but I'm back. Forgive me. For reference, Sirya is about 16-17 here. If I can do anything to make it up to you guys, lemme know. I won't leave this unfinished.


	27. Faith to Find

"Sirya doubled checked his saddle bag for his maps, and mounted his horse. His hair was braided in the warriors braid, and he wore leather guards and armor. He felt like his father.

"Up you go."

Telion and Emarth we're joining him, as well as a team of elite warriors headed to the front line. He was nervous, but more nervous about what he would experience. He was no longer playing with his fathers planning soldiers. He was dealing with real lives. Thranduil's hand was on Sirya's shoulder, and he turned his head to listen. Sirya caught his sigh, and Thranduil's arm shifted as he turned his head away. He was worried.

"I will be alright, Daeradar." He got up onto his horse, his grandfather's hand slipping from his shoulder. "I will make you proud."

"You have already made me proud," Thranduil said gravely. Sirya couldn't comfort him. Sirya didn't know what would become of him. He couldn't promise him that they would all be together again, living in peace as a family once the threat of war had passed and Sauron defeated. He couldn't reassure his grandfather because he himself wondered if they would be home again. If Legolas would live to see what Sirya had achieved. "Ge melin." Thranduil whispered, and touched his thigh.

"Ge melin, Daeradar." He felt Emarth take the reigns of his horse, and they were off.

Thranduil watched him go, and stood in the courtyard for far longer than he had expected. He always thought of Elrond at times like this. Of Galadriel. They had many losses like he had. Elrond had lost his brother for eternity. He would not be waiting for him in Valinor. Galadriel's entire family lay in Valinor, some would never leave the halls of Mandos. If they could get through loss, so could he. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself. He would be strong for his family. Leniven walked up behind him.

"Hir Vuin." He said quietly.

"Is it done?"

"Yes my lord. We have readied your horse. Your sword is sharpened and your armor laid out."

"Very well," Thranduil said, and set his course for the royal wing.

"Is there a possibility I could send word to the woodland realm?" Legolas asked the guard. The air was still and cold. Stale and stagnant as the inhabitants of Edoras. They had just freed Theoden from Saruman's hold, and attended Theodred's funeral. It hurt him in a way he did not expect, to see the King grief his son so. He thought of Sirya, and what he would do if his son had died while he was gone? Unable to comfort him? Is this how Thranduil felt when he thought of Legolas? He needed word that his family was alright. They would stay the week, and Legolas was anxious to hear from them. He'd received word that all out war had broken out, and Lothlórien had gone to assist the woodland realm. Many villages and parts of the forest had been decimated, and he found himself wondering if he had made the right decision. He'd left them to save Middle Earth, but what if Mirkwood wasn't there when he returned?

He tried to settle his panic, and the guard shook his head. "We have no messengers, sir. I am terribly sorry."

Legolas turned away. "This means that you have no news coming in as well?"

The guard nodded.

Legolas stalked away, down the stairs and over to the stable where Aragorn was speaking to a stable boy. He looked up, and the boy's eyes widened at the sight of Legolas.

"They will not?" Aragorn guessed, and the stable boy bowed his head and walked away. The wind was whipping terribly hard, and Legolas' hair stung his face.

"No, they will not," Legolas said bitterly. Legolas looked up, and saw the little boy in Aragorn's face. The boy that wished to please his foster father and learn to shoot. Life had seemed so simple then. Aragorn was his son's friend, and here he was, now his partner in combat. He had been so innocent, and now he was taking lives and fighting for his survival. How cruel time could be.

"They are fine, I am sure. You would know if something had happened."

Legolas looked to the hills. He watched the sun fall behind the clouds, birds chattering in the trees before the fields. "Perhaps I should return to Mirkwood." He said quietly.

Aragorn's eyebrows rose, his hand finding his hip. "If that is your wish. I cannot hold you here."

Legolas looked into the young ranger's face. "I cannot foresee the consequences of either decision."

"That is the difficult part. You are a valuable member of this team Legolas. Your loss would be felt."

He turned his head away, his blue eyes trained on the shadowed grass. He had said similar things to his team many times. He had made a commitment. He nodded, "I shall stay."

Aragorn grinned, and put his hand on his shoulder. "I must admit I am relieved."

Legolas smiled, and a woman walked by with her husband, shamelessly staring. The man had a protective arm around the woman, his back hunched away from him. Legolas reddened and turned away. It had been commonplace since they had arrived. They stared as if he were a strange animal. Sometimes, even, in fear. He looked back, hooded beneath his veil of hair, and they were walking away, their heads still turned toward him.

Aragorn felt a mix of amusement and concern. He squeezed Legolas' shoulder. "You are a novelty. It will wear."

He nodded, "yes. I am sure. I will see you soon." Legolas turned and hurried toward Meduseld. This certainly wasn't Mirkwood. He pictured his father at his desk, Baineth and sirya sitting by the fire, reading together. It wouldn't be like that now, would it? They would be fighting, fearful. Death and pain plaguing the land. He couldn't forgive himself if something happened to his family. If he weren't there in their time of need. Where were they now?

"It took Sirya two days to get to the frontline. Upon arrival, it was incredibly quiet, but it ceased to calm his nerves. He felt he had to prove his worth, and the silence of the afternoon allowed his mind to run free. Emarth lead his horse to a nearby tree and helped him down. He had seven men on his guard, and Emarth was his immediate guard. Sirya had his hair braided back out of his face, and his green tunic and leggings on. He had his father's leather bracers and his dagger at his side. He had learned significant self defense maneuvers with and without his dagger.

Emarth pressed his hand into his back, and Sirya reached around and took his arm. "The captain's name is Androdel. He is looking forward to meeting you." Sirya nodded. Androdel. "The encampment is a circle. The center is the captains tent. Yours is at the back near the forest. I will be staying with you in your tent."

"This Androdel," Sirya began, "where is he from?"

"He is from your fathers elite guard. He served on the western patrol prior."

Sirya nodded. His hands were shaking, and Emarth cleared his throat signifying Androdel's arrival.

Androdel was looking forward to meeting the elfling. He was a mysterious figure to most of the force, he was rarely seen. Androdel had heard rumors of him, but had never seen him. Sirya was very tall, nearly as tall as the king. He was lean and willowy like his father, an ancient, silent elegance cast over him. His eyes were ice blue, so light they outshone the sky itself. He hair was stark in its comparison, blue-black and wavy long past his elbows. A large scar marred his cheek, and shot over his eye and eyebrow, leaving a stripe of imperfection across his otherwise nearly perfect face. He was very young, but no part of his demeanor tipped to his novice.

Androdel stiffened. How do you greet a blind person?

"My lord Sirya," Emarth began, "I would like to introduce you to Captain Androdel of the southern front." Sirya nodded and put his hand out for the Warriors' grasp. Androdel hurried to meet it, and Sirya's firm grip met his forearm.

"It is a pleasure to meet you," Sirya said, his voice rang through the air like a bell, and others turned and looked at him.

"The pleasure is mine," Androdel said, swallowing hard. This child was going to be in control of all of their lives. He wanted to trust him, but he wasn't so sure.

"If you could tell me the makeup of the battalion."

Androdel started, "of course, my lord." He wanted to lead him to the captains tent. "Um-" he looked helplessly to Emarth.

"Where is it you wish to proceed?" Emarth asked, and touched Sirya's back.

Androdel flushed. This wasn't a good start. "If you could follow me to the captains' tent." Emarth and Sirya made their way to the tent, and Telion waited outside. "Our team consists of three quarters Mirkwood elves and the remaining are Galadhrim," Androdel began.

"Are the Galadhrim under private rule or?"

"They have been incorporated into our company for the time being."

Sirya nodded, and his eyes were trained on the table while he dug through his bag for something. His eyebrows knit together in frustration, and he pointed outside. "Emarth my saddle bag-" he left, and Sirya felt along the table for something. Androdel tilted his head. What was he looking for? Sirya found a quill and put out his hand to Emarth as he entered the tent. He handed Sirya the bag and he dug out a map and unraveled it on the table. He used the quill to trace along the topographical map along the river and found their exact position.

"What is the current position of the orcs?"

Androdel looked to Emarth, who pointed to the map.

"Here," he pointed across the river, and Sirya found his finger.

They discussed numbers and past tactics that had worked and didn't. After a time, Sirya was out of questions and scribbled on the map. He could read the words, but barely.

"Here is what I would like to do."

Androdel was up half the night in his tent, thinking of Sirya. He was blind. He felt a strange sense of loyalty toward him, and his blindness made him nervous. Emarth was legendary, the guard of the prince. But if they were attacked what would happen? He considered talking to Emarth about it, but he unnerved him. He had a lot to prove, and many lives in his hands. He wasn't going to let pride get in the way of safety. He went outside, and the guards looked at him, concerned. He walked over to Sirya's tent, and Emarth was seated on the ground before it, book in hand. He looked up at him, and closed the book with a silent snap.

"Is everything alright?"

Androdel gestures toward his tent. "Could we talk?"

Emarth stood and followed Androdel to his tent. He sat in one of his chairs and brushed his hand over his head. He seemed tired.

"I am aware that you know Sirya well."

"He is like my brother," Emarth said quickly.

"I-" he hesitated. "I am overjoyed that he is here. But-"

"But you are worried about him." Emarth's voice echoed Androdel's thoughts. Androdel nodded. "Sirya is a remarkably kind, patient elf. There is not a question or concern you could voice that would upset him."

"I am not sure of how to act, how to help him."

"He will tell you if he needs help. Your job is the same as it would be with a sighted strategist. If something goes wrong I am here to protect him, and he can protect himself. His father, grandfather, and myself trained him thusly."

Androdel nodded. "I wish for him to be safe."

"As do I. I assure you, he is my first priority. Harm will only come to him if I am dead." Androdel felt ridiculous, but comforted. "Please," Emarth said, his eyes pointed at the captain. "I am happy to help." Androdel grinned and Emarth stood. "I must return to my lord," He said quietly. "I cannot bring myself to leave his side for long."

"Of course. Thank you." Emarth nodded and returned, leaving Androdel to the messy plots that Sirya drew. A winning strategy scratched onto stray parchment. He was a genius, and he would win the war for them.

"The following morning the weather was fair and the skies made way for a perfect sunrise. Scouts returned from their overnight shift to report exactly what Sirya had predicted. The orcs would move in, and the elves would move around them, blocking them in against the mountainside. Many of the men were up and about when Androdel joined them that morning, and they welcomed him with hope carried on their voices. Sirya left his tent in good spirits, and Androdel welcomed Sirya and introduced him to some of the team. Sirya met everyone with equal enthusiasm, and Androdel was excited for his second to meet him. He had been away on a scouting mission to the far south.

When he rode into camp, Androdel approached his horse. "Sirya is here."

"Spectacular." He second breathed, irritation on his breath. Androdel froze, and his second brushed past, and into his tent. Sirya sensed it, and said something quietly to Emarth by the fireside. Androdel followed his second into his tent, pushing the curtain aside with a swift wave of his arm.

"What is it that bothers you so? I surely hope it is a good reason because I am unhappy with your rude impression on the king's grandson."

Selebren turned and threw his cloak onto the chair. "You approve of this? Of being lead by a blind, inexperienced child?"

Androdel sighed. "He has proven efficient again and again in other regions. He could help us get our footing."

"He's going to get us killed. He already has a significant amount of care involved with Emarth, the finest warrior in the land, at his side as a servant. We do not need a strategist. We have done well on our own."

Androdel huffed. "I do not approve of your view of him, when he has just arrived. You are fortunate I did not judge you as such."

Selebren turned, stung. "That is unfair," He defended.

"It is fair," Androdel barked, "and I wish for you to greet him properly. I do not recommend that you make a habit of humiliating me."

Selebren stood, fuming. "Fine." He stalked out to the clearing, and Sirya turned his head, a cup of tea in his hand. Emarth spun, a judgemental glare on his brow.

"Sirya, I would like to introduce you to my second in command, Selebren." Sirya braced his wrist.

"Mae Govannen," Selebren said reluctantly, and Sirya nodded.

"Mae Govannen."

Selebren turned and left them, and Androdel flushed. "He is tired-"

"I understand," Sirya said, a smile on his lips. "If you could excuse me." He started toward his tent, and Emarth followed. They would be initiating Sirya's plan the following morning, and Androdel didn't know what to expect. It was very different, but he believed it could work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Thanks to everyone who's stuck around all this time, and to all my new readers! I have many more stories, so if you're enjoying this one, I would love for you all to read those as well. Please review, I would love to hear your thoughts. I would also like to hear peoples' thoughts about a sequel taking place in Ithilien until Legolas leaves for Valinor? Yay or nay? Thanks :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please review/subscribe!!!!! Action up next


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